Wow. This is just terrible. There's no other word for it other than that.
Firstly, the casting is just plain awful. Diversity for the sake of diversity takes its toll yet again, with people being cast into roles with the wrong ethnicity for that particular part. This is even more insulting considering the fact that the world all of this takes place in, already has tons of diversity in it to begin with. Don't shove it in where it doesn't belong!
Storywise... ooh boy. So much has been changed. And look, I get that book adaptations need certain elements changed in order to better fit a visual medium. And some changes they made, are fine. But let me just list some things that are completely wrong:
The whole concept of the Dragon. The show opens with a very brief description of who the Dragon is. The Dragon is the reincarnation of a male Aes Sedai who broke the world in ages past. Concise, but true. Good enough. But then they go on and say that this reincarnation could be either male or female? That makes no sense at all! The Dragon has to be male, because he's the reincarnation of a male Aes Sedai, and he will break the world a second time, just like he did before.
Finding the Dragon. Nobody knows who the Dragon Reborn is. People find out because he starts fulfilling the prophecies written about him just by being born in a certain place and on a certain time. That's how Moiraine narrows it down to the Two Rivers, by finding out about some young people there that fit those criteria. In this adaptation, all Aes Sedai have some sort of spidey sense that can pinpoint the Dragon. Lazy writing at its best.
The world itself. It should be winter, due to the Dark One's grasp increasing on the world. This is a big plot point, which causes visible distress with pretty much everyone, affecting their doings and thoughts, and in this adaptation they just dumb it down to "something drove the wolves down the mountain". It's spring in this version, and birds can be heard in pretty much every scene.
Characters not acting the way they should. Nynaeve is much too serene, Moiraine isn't serene enough, Egwene is much too mature, Perrin is much too jokey, Mat isn't jokey enough and much too responsible, and so on.
Characters' backstories changed to completely change their personality even further. Mat suddenly has abusive parents. Perrin, who is consistently described in the books as a shy, awkward, careful, peaceloving guy, not only has a girlfriend in this adaptation (his finding his first love in Faile Bashere later on is also a huge plot point that they dismissed by doing this), but he murders her in a fit of blind rage. Nynaeve is suddenly a "lost child", just so they could add her to the possible list of nonsensical Dragon candidates. Because suddenly the Aes Sedai spidey sense doesn't work anymore. Rand and Egwene having a full on sexual relationship while they're supposed to be a coming-of-age story that never works out for them.
Forced edginess. Nudity and sex scenes, while sparse, are shoved in your face so forcefully that you can just tell one of the producers saw Game of Thrones and told the script writers to shove "some of that" in there.
There is a LOT more wrong with this cesspool of an adaptation in terms of story, but those are some of the big ones. Also just overall bad acting and bad CGI. The CGI looks like a videogame from the mid 2010's.
I really wanted to like this, but no amount of goodwill can save this absolute mess of a show.
Important note: If I sound joking, ironic, or condescending, I apologise in advance if my words hit you. I have a sharp tongue and usually joke about things, including myself. For example, I came up with the nude girl example in the last paragraph, because some part of me like the book's version with one girl better, so I was joking about myself more than any of you readers :sweat_smile: Thanks for reading!
I've recently re-read the short stories for the forth (or so) time and played two out of the three main games, so I cannot not compare the different interpretations of The Witcher. But I won't spoil anything beyond the first episode and it's all tagged.
First of all: It was obvious there was and is and never will be a way to cater to all fans. It is impossible if there are only two fans in the whole wide world which have only read the books. Or if there a many of them, all with different first contacts with Geralt and his story, and different backgrounds. A German fan has a different approach to many of the stories compared to for example an American one, because he had heard the fairy tales, which Sapkowski wove into his stories, reinterpreted. Just an example.
So obviously that was something Netflix had in mind and it seemed they cared about it. I would have preferred a different decision (sticking closer to the books), but I see why they did what they did and I think it's the right decision.
So what did they do? They chose to use different timelines to introduce Geralt and Ciri with their defining moments: "The Lesser Evil" for Geralt, which marks him as the Butcher of Blaviken, and Cintra's fall for Cirilla (Ciri), which introduces us to her possibilities and sets her on her path. It also hints at the connection between the two stories, but that's for another time.
They also decided to sway in the minor and sometimes bigger details, sticking to the red line of each story and weaving a new telling around it. It reminds me a little of Neil Gaiman's "Norse Mythology", where he admits that his retelling is deviating from the source in some points, because he is re-telling the stories, not copying them. And that's a good thing. Yes, we might not see some moments of dialogues in Netflix's version, but imagine them as someone telling you Geralt's story as you sit around a camp fire. You don't care about the details, if Stregobor did know Geralt beforehand or not, or if Geralt met the Alderman or his daughter. You want to hear the story of the Butcher of Blaviken, how he had to face this dilemma. It doesn't matter if Renfri and the witcher f*cked (Do I need to censor this word here?) in a room or a forest. You want a good time and you'll have it.
And we had it. It was a great first episode, telling two very interesting stories, defining characters, setting up the story. Compared to so many other first episodes of shows, this was a great one. And comparing it to other great first episodes, it doesn't loose either.
Yes, some people may be hurt that they experienced a story that wasn't exactly what they expected. Maybe they are not sold on the cast, maybe they hate that there were more than one nude illusion girl in Stregobor's tower or that Geralt didn't cut someone in two. And that's okay. The Witcher fans are a passionate bunch coming from many different directions. Let's give this retelling of our favorite story a chance. It deserves one.
Possibly a contrarian opinion, but I'm starting to get a little worn down by a show that so heavily panders to the super fans in hopes their gushing will trickle down to the masses. You're supposed to be telling me the story, not showing glimpses of things and then hoping I'll read wiki pages and fandom entries just to know what the hell is going on.
Case in point, we've seen Monica as an operative for SWORD, but she walks through the Hex and now has glowing eyes and can stand toe to toe with Wanda. So now you expect me to read wiki entries on whoever the fuck "Spectrum" is just to understand what the hell just happened? Or are we all supposed to have a resident Marvel super fan who can just rattle off who these people are you're introducing at the speed of light?
Agatha is also another prime example. After this weeks episode, it feels like the intended reaction from the audience is "OMG THEY ARE DOING AGATHA HARKNESS?! OMG OMG OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY'RE DOING AGATHA!!". I simply do not know who Agatha is or what her connection is, but all the comments online would have you believe this is the second coming of Christ.
A fly on the wall in one scene is apparantly a confirmation of either Mephisto or Nightmare. Who? What? Oh right, more wikis and fandom pages.
Okay. So here's the short recap for everyone confused:
Geralt saved Duny, father of Ciri (the hedgehog), by calming Calanthe down. As the price for saving his life he got the Law of Surprise as payment: Whatever's already in Duny's possision without him knowing it, is now Geralt's. Paveta, Ciri's mother, was pregnant at that moment and Duny didn't know about it. Therefore Geralt is destined to be Ciri's foster father. But both Calanthe and Geralt weren't fans and didn't honour the deal. So Destiny got angry and fucked things up for Calanthe and her kingdom by letting Nilfgaard invade Cintra successfully. Geralt knew about Nilfgaard's advances and wanted to save Ciri from it - by doing that he fulfilled the Law of Surprise and took his role as Ciri's foster father seriously. But he was too late. Cintra has fallen, Calanthe killed herself, and Ciri is on the run. There she meet elf kid, wandering into the Brokilon, trusting and following fake Mousesack for some time, before realizing her mistake and running away from Nilfgaard again. They are searching for her, because she has a power that seems to fulfill a prophecy about something End of the World-ish.
As I said again and again before: The books are not really that much more straightforward, maybe even less than the Netflix series. And they are intertwining lore and background only explained in the saga with the short stories of the prequel books, while also fleshing out Yennefer's and Ciri's story. And all of that within 7 episodes.
Others might say that this is not as intense as previous episode, which might be true in terms of action and moving the plot forward. But I find this episode is still intense in a different way: more emotional investment.
"Family" and its unfortunately related cousin "abuse" seem to be the the theme that knits together different story arcs of the episode: the obvious Butcher flashback, Kimiko and Frenchie, MM with his family, Soldier Boy, and Homelander.
The episode kind of speeds up the pace in showing Soldier Boy's villainy through a recreation/imagination of Black Noir's flashback; although I'm not too comfortable that they present Noir's flashback at face value (instead of being an unreliable narrator), I think it still kinda works.
It is shown that Soldier Boy is an abusive, selfish bully with anger issues you would typically see among band leads or celebrity groups. While some have defended Soldier Boy's action by comparing him to Homelander ("at least Soldier Boy is not psychotic, emotionally unstable narcissist! He is a normal person not grown in lab!"), I think they missed the point of the show: the biggest issue here is exactly what would happen if people with power (influence) have additional power (literal superpower) while being protected by multi-billion dollar company. They possess all the impunity to wreak havoc. Like MM said, "no one should have the right to wield such power."
This theme of abuse is explicated with Butcher's flashback. No one is inherently "good" or "evil" - you are shaped by your upbringing. As the scenes between his memories, his reflection, and his projection in current time are cut seamlessly back and forth, Butcher slowly realizes that he mirrors the man he hated the most. Yet he fully accepts his succumbing to that darkness while bringing Hughie with him through his personal vendetta against the supes - not caring about the risk towards others who he claimed he loved. Even with parents, one may grow to be a contemptuous person if they live in an abusive family, and it's a cycle that is very difficult to break. Butcher's flashback is certainly the spotlight of the episode for me.
Even with Kimiko's story in the background (her saying that V only explicates what kind of person you are), considering that we've been shown how the character's social lives shaped them into what they are now - Kimiko with her abducted kid background, Hughie's insecurity with his zero to hero job, etc - the message stays strong, countering the superhero cliche of inherently morally good and evil person.
I'm hoping this dynamic could be further explored in the next episode (or season) with the Soldier Boy and Homelander encounter when it's revealed that Soldier Boy is Homelander's father, at least he feels so. An abusive father meets a narcissist kid-who'd-wanna-be-a-father. The ending of this episode becomes revealing when tied up to the earlier convesation between Homelander and Maeve: with Homelander echoing Soldier Boy's words that he "used to dream of having kids" with Maeve, it becomes apparent in this episode that the relationship between Homelander and Maeve (and Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess) it is not something exactly out of pure love.
"Having kids" is not a romantic statement: it's a purely masculine, self-centered ego of having someone of your blood - of your similarity - that you can be proud of. Who the partner is doesn't matter; they are only means to that end. And in that Soldier Boy shares something in common with Homelander as shown through his delight of accepting Homelander readily as his son, albeit lab-grown. He only wants to see a better version of him.
Last but not least, I love the jab at corporate this episode still throws. Ashley spinning breaking news about Starlight in a similar way Disney would spin stories about their abuse and mismanagement; and that A-Train being zombified, again, with the heart of Blue Hawk embedded in his body, serving only as Vought's puppet. I'm not sure if that's the most satisfying end to A-Train's arc, but seeing his disappointed, grim look, his lack of agency, I guess the character suffers a lot. I just hope this will be the last of his arc and the show doesn't squeeze him further.
That said, with the reveal at the ending, I am not sure I am 100% satisfied as I was expecting Soldier Boy bringing down Homelander, or rendering him powerless by the end of the season. Looks like Homelander will continue to be the main villain. I just hope they don't prolong the "mentally unstable" trope too much and find ways to keep the show interesting. Looking forward to the finale.
[7.4/10] My favorite part of this one is Vision realizing something is up, lying to Wanda to try to get to the bottom of it, and trying to break free to get help, even at the cost of his own life. We’ve mostly been focused on Wanda’s trauma to this point, and for good reason. But there’s something equally disturbing about Vision realizing he is a prisoner here, that people are suffering because of the woman he loves, and that something is very very wrong. It’s a kind of psychological horror that’s gripping in an underplayed sort of way.
I like the subtle coldness in his interactions with Wanda, despite the theoretically warming confines of the sitcom form. There’s a painfully believable awkwardness between the two of them in the moments where the facade slips, and it’s good work from the performers and the show. Likewise, I love Agnes’s monologue when Vision jolts here out of Wanda’s control for a minute. Her half-deranged, half-resigned ramblings are striking and just as eerie.
The piece de resistance though is Vision trying to break out of the hex. Watching him slowly disintegrate as he breaks the bonds makes for a tragic and horrific image, particularly when his near-dying words to those who come to check on him are “you must save the people.” There’s something so noble about Vision, from the beginning really, and it makes what’s happening to him all the more sad and terrifying.
That said, I wasn’t as crazy about the stuff happening outside of the Hex this week. It feels too mechanical and generic Shield. As much as I enjoy the trio of Monica/Jimmy/Darcy, Director Hayward has turned into such a generic government suit antagonist that the conflict feels played out. Nevermind the fact that the three of them can apparently take out big dudes with body armor and automatic weapons. Most of their business either strains credulity or feels like a warmed over “good organization gone bad” thing we’ve seen time after time in the MCU.
That said, I’m intrigued at the prospect of Monica and Jimmy choosing to go back into the Hex on their terms, while Darcy seems to get sucked in by Wanda’s expansion. Seeing these performers “in the show” is an exciting prospect, even if the way we get there is a little contrived.
“The show” part of the episode is good too! Malcolm in the Middle is an interesting touchstone to go with, and I suppose it’s the most noteworthy leap in family sitcoms in the 2000s. As usual, WandaVision does the pastiche well, with the jump to single cam clicking nicely and the scrappier, less middle class affluent suburbia vibe of latter day family sitcoms kicking in.
But the most intriguing dynamic to me is not only Quicksilver’s arrival as the manchild brother who sleeps on his sister’s couch, but the way that he casually breaks the fourth wall with Wanda. He talks about the mechanics of the sitcom -- how he’s needed to add some tension and the like -- while also hinting at the way the details don’t add up, the way he’s bending things to make them like she wanted, the way he knows Vision’s already been dead. It creates an interesting role for him in WandaVision, as someone whose cracking Wanda’s fantasy defenses just a little bit, at the same time he’s letting the audience in on the truth at the same time.
I especially like the choice to have it be a product of their being siblings, telling his sister that she can talk to him, in a way she can’t talk to anyone else. It gives her the emotional space to reveal that she’s not fully in control here. She doesn’t remember how it all started, and while the things she wants are coming into play, and she can clearly extend the bounds of the Hex, there’s more going on there than even she knows.
We also get to learn what she’s grappling with here -- survivor’s guilt, something exemplified by the claymation, gogurt-inspired commercial. She confides in Pietro that she felt all alone, having lost her parents, her brother, and eventually the man she loved even after all the dust cleared. Pietro stirs all of this up in her, bringing it to the surface, and Elizabeth Olsen does a particularly good job as a performer conveying all that internal strife while trying to put on a smiling face. The layers in her acting here are really, really good.
There’s also tons of plot-relevant stuff going on here. For one, the twins have powers that mirror their mom and uncle, with one gaining superspeed and the other seeming to have Wanda’s psychic and telekinetic abilities. There’s reason to think the development of these kids, who take more focus here, is a big part of the motivation behind whatever’s causing all of this.
We get more hints in that direction as well. I’ll admit to thinking that Agnes might have been the culprit, but Vision’s conversation with her definitely suggests that she’s not the mastermind, at the very least. Herb (who was surreptitiously chatting with Agnes in a previous episode) seems a little more self-aware than we knew, asking if Wanda wants to change things up. Plus, Darcy’s hacking intimates that Hayward may know more, or have bigger plans for what’s going on here than anyone knew. We’re getting just enough hints toward the mystery to bring things tantalizing closer to being in focus without disrupting the cool and slightly unnerving sense of ambiguity as to who’s really in charge here.
That just leaves the texture, which is also really good in this one. I like using Halloween as an excuse to get the cast into their comic book costumes. Also, this episode does a good job of showing us people on the edge of the Hex being a little less resource-intensive for the simulation, just doing basic tasks and not being as fully hoodwinked by Wanda’s hoodoo as folks closer to her orbit. It too is creepy, in a good way. And once more, the show wrings real unnerving terror from the brief moments where real life and real emotion cut through the sitcom artifice.
Overall, this episode didn’t grab me as much as some of the others have, but there’s still lots of good work within it, matches with some strong character work with Wanda and Vision in particular, with Pietro being a catalyst for it, not just a gimmick or bit of stunt casting.
The most obvious best part in the episode is of course Stormfront. The show doesn't pull punches. Stormfront makes a really good portrayal of today libertarianism: social media savvy, all about women empowerment a la Sophia Amoruso's "Girlboss", but does not care with the have nots, and is extremely prejudiced towards marginalized groups (e.g. ethnic minorities). Casting a female Stormfront (instead of a male one like in the comics) is a good touch as it highlights the point that without class or racial sensitivities, you'd get people that talk of empowerment as long as it only benefits them.
However there is another part, a slightly minor scene in the big move that drives the plot forward. When it is revealed that Starlight successfully leaks Compound V to the media, A-Train confronts her. She justifies her action: "there is much more than having good cars, houses, etc" (the things possible when the supes rose into stardom). Disappointed, A-Train cut her short, "the only people who say that are the people who grew up with money."
This short conversation shows what The Boys can do best: nuance. A-Train might be a jerk, but he too is a victim of the system. Like the blacks Stormfront murdered later in the episode, A-Train came from lower class background. His supe power helped him to climb the socioeconomic ladder, being an athlete in place of his brother and of course being a part of The Seven. This is in contrast to Starlight, who was raised by relatively affluent mother - who was obsessed with getting her child into stardom herself - always in spotlight and sufficient wealth since a young age. Starlight yearns for a meaningful life; A-Train desires a luxurious life he never got before his rise to supehero status.
A-Train was introduced as a jerk, no-good drug abuser; but after the anticlimactic conclusion in S1, with limited screen time he's been having in S2, we are shown more layers to A-Train's perspective. The show does this sort of nuance well with Maeve too.
The only obviously antagonist in the last episode is Homelander - as he went into more a narcissitic, mentally unstable character that may explode at any given time. But I hope even with his unpredictable deranged action we can still see the way he handles conflicting expectations he will face in the following episodes, esp. with the appearance of Stormfront, like when we saw him juggling between his individuality and personal branding in S1.
Very very good finale. I really enjoyed Lyra and Asriel's scenes together. He is a fascinating character with so many sides to him. It's obvious that he cares about Lyra, but his mission takes precedence over everything, even his daughter or his morals - we could see he took no pleasure in sacrificing Roger, but he didn't hesitate to do it because he feels he has a duty to free all of humanity from enslavement. Having read the books, I obviously knew the tragic ending was coming, but it still hit me really hard. Roger was a sweet cinnamon roll and he deserved better. His death was absolutely devastating, maybe even more than in the book, since Lyra got SO CLOSE to him that she could hold his hand. My poor babies :( And on Will's side of things, he's finally found the opening! I have to say, I love the foreshadowing with the cat that showed him the way. Now that we're onto The Subtle Knife, things are gonna get crazy. Can't wait.
As a long-time fan of the books, I find a whole lot to like about this series. The casting is for the most part excellent, especially Ruth Wilson, who was born to play Marisa Coulter, and James McAvoy, who brings a lot of nuance and depth to Lord Asriel. I was so looking forward to finally seeing them interact and their chemistry is amazing. I would really love to see a miniseries centered around these two when they first met and everything that happened leading up to Lyra's birth. Dafne Keen somehow manages to look like both of her on-screen parents (I genuinely applaud the casting director) and I think she's done a good job with her portrayal of Lyra. Her acting can be a bit hit-and-miss at times, but when she's on, she's pretty amazing. I also like the actors who portray Lord Boreal and Will. And speaking of Will, I don't mind the fact that the series decided to introduce him in season 1. I actually like it because I remember how jarring it was for me when he popped up out of nowhere in the second book. I was annoyed because it felt like he was interrupting Lyra's story. The show has done a good job of making us care about him just as much as we care about Lyra, telling us right out of the gate that this story has two protagonists from parallel worlds whose fates are intertwined and who will inevitably meet at some point. Very good choice on the showrunners' part. The visuals and cinematography are beautiful, the music is excellent (the opening credits slay me every time) and it's for the most part a very faithful adaptation of the source material.
Not everything is perfect, though. The biggest problem I have with the series is that it severely undermines the relationship between humans and daemons. There is literally nothing stronger in Lyra's world than that bond. Seeing someone without a daemon is so viscerally terrifying that it's like seeing someone without a head. Yet in the series we constantly see people without daemons. Yes, yes budgetary restrictions and all that, but you know what? Maybe that's a controversial opinion, but if you don't have enough money to accurately represent one of the key world-building features of the story, then perhaps you shouldn't be adapting said story in the first place. Can't believe I'm saying this, but even the movie, which is terrible in many ways, managed to portray it better, at least between Lyra and Pan. I don't think I'll ever forgive the show for the way Lyra just ignored Pan after they were almost separated at Bolvangar and ran towards Marisa instead of immediately grabbing her freaking soul, her dearest companion, from that cage. Like I said, even in the movie Lyra would cuddle Pan whenever something dangerous happened. Meanwhile on the show I can count on one hand how many times Lyra touched her daemon over the course of 8 episodes. Again, I understand that they have budgetary restrictions, but Lyra and Pan's relationship is probably the most important dynamic in the books and it just doesn't feel that way in the series. Another thing I don't like - and I realize that in the grand scheme of things it's really not that important - is that they changed Kaisa from a goose to a gyrfalcon. I know they did it because a talking goose looked bad and cartoonish and they felt they couldn't make it work, but we've seen many characters with raptor daemons (Ma Costa and Tony, for example). Kaisa being a goose was unusual, unique, and changing that fundamentally changes who Serafina is as a person. To me, daemons are probably one of the greatest concepts ever invented in literature. They're endlessly fascinating. So the way they're treated on the show is just bitterly disappointing.
Okay, deep breath, rant over.
Still looking forward to season 2. And in the meantime, if anyone is interested in daemons as much as I am, I recommend this quiz: https://app.ex.co/stories/laurenb90/what-is-your-daemon. This is not a self promo or anything (as if I could ever make something this in-depth), but I think it's pretty cool and the results can be pretty damn accurate. This quiz gives you one of the 34 possible animal groups. In the description of that group, there is a link to a second quiz that gives you a specific species or breed within that group. Have fun.
(Mine is an opossum. And I love him.)
Watching a great series finale is akin to saying good-bye to an old friend. So, as I write my final review of this stellar series, I'm feeling a little blue. But, let me walk you through my experience watching this series, which is now setting records as one of the longest continuing series by Amazon Prime.
Season One - (1 August 2017) This is my present binge watch, and I'm enjoying it. This series is based on a book by Philip K. Dick (author of BLADE RUNNER, TOTAL RECALL, THE MINORITY REPORT, THE ADJUSTMENT BUREAU). This series is a blend of genres, so there is a little of something for everyone. It is a period piece (with an anomalous mystery), a SciFi other-world creation, a thriller and a drama. So, just relax, suspend belief and follow the writer's breadcrumbs. It's a great ride. The cast is great. The story arch is compelling. There are some stand-out performances, but basically, it is a great ensemble piece. My ratings for the episodes went from a 7 (good) to an 8 (great) to a 9 (superb), and the season finale was a solid, "WHAT!" The series was now a 10 (WOW) out of 10.
Season 2 (4 August 2017) This season's story backtracked allowing the audience to recalibrate, but then, quickly, drew us back in to its thrilling pace. It continued to give us superb storytelling, engaging performances, dynamic character building, depth of production and the season finale was breathtaking, and I have nothing but high praise for this series - a solid 10 (brilliant) out of 10.
Season 3 (7 December 2018) Already on my TOP TV SERIES list, my only concern is that, for the whole series, we are waiting for the big reveal of how this universe works, and each season this reveal is delayed - how long can we defer resolve? An additional challenge of this season was to maintain the mystery without violating the original premise. There were interesting new characters, great storytelling and interesting challenges left for season 4. My rating for this series is still a 10 (well done) out of 10.
Season 4 (11 December 2019) I knew this was to be its last season, so, I began it with a bitter-sweet anticipation. Of course, it was following up on a cliff-hanger from the season before. There were some major character losses, none quite so jarring as the first one. (I felt like we had been robbed.) Although the finale left more questions unanswered, I knew that any finale would have left me longing for more. This was a wonderfully conceived premise, superb storytelling, a fantastic cast giving us enduring characters, timely existential questions and moral repercussions. This is TV at its best, 10 out of 10, all the way and I will miss it (and probably rewatch it, every 4 years, or so). [SciFi, Period, Mystery, Drama]
[7.0/10] It occurred to me while watching this episode that The Good Place feels surprisingly like another, far more down-to-earth show -- Orange Is the New Black. Both feature a collection of people from different walks of life, thrown together and trying to make it work in a new environment, with episodic flashbacks to give you insight into their lives and explain how they got there.
That’s clearest in Tahani’s B-story here. The whole “my parents liked my sibling better” is trite and done in a broad way, but it at least gives us some hints as to what motivates Tahani. The ranking thing was a little too literal way to explain her motivation for doing good, and her sister’s accomplishments were a bit too over the top, as was her parents’ disregard for her. But there were some cute moment and again, it’s nice to see the show humanizing an otherwise seemingly perfect character.
The A-story with Eleanor and Chidi was pretty broad too. I like the idea that there’s friction and exhaustion between the two of them having to spend so much time together, but including a marriage counselor and body language expert into the equation is too convenient, with too many generic sitcom-y conflicts like “she never washes the dishes!”
Still, like Michael Schur’s prior show, Parks and Rec, it gets the emotions of the story right which goes a long way. As with Tahani, it deepens and humanizes Chidi to learn that not only is he worn out from having to spend his time in paradise teaching Eleanor, but that her being there keeps him from finding his real soulmate, something he never came close to on Earth. It’s a character beat that makes the nerdy, reserved Chidi feel more real, and creates emotional stakes rather than just the standard sitcom skirmishes for the story.
(Wild theory time:[spoiler]Chidi is actually meant to be Tahani’s soulmate. Just a guess that stems from the law of conservation of characters.)
It provides a nice chance for Eleanor to grow too. Her applying her newfound understanding of Utilitarianism to discern how increasing her happiness takes away from Chidi’s is a surprisingly mature way to look at things, and her “fork off Eleanor” card and attempt to give Chidi his rowboat/french poetry escapade is a nice beat for her. (As is her glee at letting someone cut in front of her because she doesn’t know what she wants at the frozen yogurt shop.)
Overall, a solid episode that seems better in hindsight because of how well it nails the emotional landing in the A-story.
I'm writing this based only on the pilot, but OMG! There are Nazis and the Imperial Japanese, and they occupy America. This actually gives us a perspective on ourselves. In the show, the Nazis torture people, and the Japs invade someone's home, calling it a matter of "national security". In our reality, the CIA tortures people, and the NSA invades our homes, calling it a matter of "national security".
It's not simply a matter of an alternate reality. There is an object from our reality in theirs. That moves the show from pure fiction to science fiction. Our reality affects theirs. Does theirs affect ours?
Set in past, but not our past, the show requires a lot of careful details in the shots. The San Francisco skyline is an old one, and yet there are modifications for the increased Japanese influence.
The show is dense, and I found myself rewinding multiple times. One example is the origami unicorn. This was very significant in the movie Blade Runner (director's cut), and I'm guessing it is here too. Blade Runner is a movie that is like great literature, and I've always wanted a TV show that is like great literature, so maybe the Man in the High Castle is it!
Thank you Philip K. Dick!
Half genius and half infuriating, I guess that means it must meet in the middle somewhere? But that doesn't work, because there's nothing about Legion that's average. The visuals and aesthetic are unquestionably the draw here, and numerous moments have been burned into my memory. It's a show that's trying to reach for something further away, combining styles, music and moods to take you on a trip - and unfortunately it sometimes falters.
It may be enough for some people, but I watch shows for the story and the characters, and Legion almost never delivers in those aspects, to the point where I wanted to scream. David does carry the show quite well and is a very sympathetic character, but the focus on his broken mind means that we don't get to know much of him at all. All we see is the torture that the Shadow King has brought upon him. The other characters are a very mixed bag, some of whom caused me to almost hit the fast-forward button whenever they came of screen.
Legion would rather have a character perform an interpretive dance than deliver a compelling narrative. It would rather insert a slow motion sequence than give us exciting action. It's chosen style over substance, and while I have to admit that it's a choice that was made with a hell of a lot of statement and reason behind it, it's always going to make something a difficult watch (for me, at least).
To be very clear, I am quite in awe of the way the show looks. There were moments in episode 7 where everything came together in an incredibly effective manner. It's just such a double-edged sword. There were two-and-a-half episodes that were spent trapped in the same moment, and that is just ridiculous. The show is in no hurry to move, and by doing that it's not holding my attention. I don't care about most of these characters, in fact I actively dislike a number of them. I don't want beat poetry, I want a reason to come back each episode. I don't know anything about these people, there was no growth across the season. Everyone is so concerned with David that they have no motivations of their own.
So, let's finish up where the show absolutely shines: Aubrey Plaza. Wow. THERE is the reason to keep coming back. She's always been an entertaining actress, but here she's mesmerising and terrifying and fun and sexy and horrific. All the best moments of the show involved her.
I like Legion but I don't love it. The show is obviously not going to change its style as it goes on and I do want to keep watching, so I can see a struggle ahead. Season 1's end sets things up for a new direction but I can't say it was all that compelling. Most of the season is spent thinking, "what the hell is going on?" and when answers come it feels like the show just wants to try and do something to confuse you more. Season 2 would do best to avoid repeating that.
[7.7/10] Tom Hiddleston and Owen Wilson are fun together. That might be enough to power this show alone. Both are talky, smart aleks as Loki and Mobius respectively, but they have different energies. Loki is theatrical, comical, smirking, and sarcastic. Mobius, by is wry and sardonic with a workaday wisdom vibe to him. The pairing clicks in the contrast. They’re close enough to mesh but different enough to compliment one another, and it’s the best part of the show.
But I like the plotting in this episode! If the first outing for the series set the table, this one finally starts serving up dishes, as Loki and Mobius actually get a break in the case. Loki realizes that his counterpart, the Superior Loki, is hiding out from the TVA in pre-apocalyptic zones, because her mucking about won’t leave any “time variances” since they’ll all be washed away by the impending disaster. Mobius cross-references that with a candy bar found at the scene of the crime in the last episode, and it leads them to actually locating their target.
Look, it’s not much, but it shows how Loki could be useful and clever when pointed in the right. It shows how Mobius is good at his job and right, however fleetingly, that this God of Mischief could be an asset to their investigation if used properly. And it plays by the rules established by the show of how time travel and detection work, while preserving the timeline. In a way, this is all a basic cop show plot, but dressed up in temporal finery and 1960s drudgery, the results are tons of fun.
I’m also a fan of Loki and Mobius’s conversation in the lunchroom about life, the universe, and everything. I’m a sucker for those sorts of navel-gazing conversations on the nature of existence, but I genuinely enjoy the two of them bouncing off one another in these grand matters of creation and philosophy. Mobius is intriguingly zen, chalking up anyone’s existence to a certain weirdness, resolving that existence is chaos, and being grateful this slice of chaos gave him the TVA. Loki, on the other hand, is not content to just ride the wave. He wants to know how things began and how they’ll end and seem to reject the notion of the Time Keepers forging order from chaos and allowing all souls to meet at the end in peace. These cosmological conversations are well-written, both in terms of getting at the big questions of existence in a compelling way and rooting them in differences between characters.
There’s also a lot of pure fun to be had here! The show opens with a good gag when we see a medieval scene and expect the heroes or villains have leapt far into the past, only to reveal that we’re seeing a Renaissance fair in 1980s Wisconsin. The droll librarian retorting to Loki’s every file request with “That’s classified” is a hoot. And Loki himself, making goofy mischief in pre-volcano Pompeii is utter delight.
The one catch is that the show is less interesting every time Loki and Mobius are separated, more or less. I’m not wild about Mobius’s interactions with his boss, Renslayer, which has a very generic, “I get results, chief!” vibe with a 1940s screwball twist. I’m not averse to the vibe, but the execution is generic.
Likewise, the final setpiece in a futuristic ersatz Wal-Mart didn’t do much for me either. Superior Loki using her abilities to hop bodies is a trick, but none of her hosts are as good at spouting smug, knowing dialogue as Tom Hiddleston is. Her motivations are opaque, which is fine at this juncture, but still a hindrance for a series’s villain. And the action is choppy and mild, with none of the flair of the time-dilated dust-ups from the last episode. The one saving grace is that Superior Loki’s immediate ploy to massively disrupt the timeline is a promising hook. Setting up the TVA to work like clockwork, only to have a variant of our favorite Trickster God throw a cosmic monkey wrench into the proceedings promises entertaining disarray to come.
Overall, though, I’m still most compelled by just watching two superb actors and two stellar characters bounce off one another in a high concept scenario. The plot remains a little convoluted if you stop to unravel it, but works well enough on a scene-to-scene basis that it’s easy to get the gist even if the details are fuzzy. I do appreciate the “It’s not about you” kiss-off at the end, which may be a metonym for the series’s main theme, and there’s zing in what the narrative promises will come next, but after two episodes, I’m still mostly here to watch a pair of quality scene partners have fun together.
(Spoilers for Star Wars: The Bad Batch: I find it funny that in two months, Disney+ has released two shows with a setup of “Here’s a scenario featuring lots of different versions of a popular character only -- wait for it -- one of them’s a girl!”)
[8.6/10] I’ve probably heard/talked/thought about the Trolley Problem a hundred times. It’s one of those bits that just comes up again and again and again if you have even the slightest interest in philosophy as a thumbnail sketch of the ethical problems that’s supposed to confront. And one of the great things about The Good Place is the way it takes those classic philosophical ideas and puts them into practice in loony, out there ways.
But I’ve never seen it actually mean so much. I don’t think of The Good Place as a particularly sentimental show. It has its sweet moments in plenty of places, and I should know better than for a Michael Schur-run show not to tug at your heartstrings now and then. But man, I was not prepared for Michael’s sacrifice play as his solution to the Trolley Problem. It’s a beautiful confluence of plot, character development, and sentiment. It gets Eleanor to the Judge; it helps truly prove Michael’s growth as a person, and it both makes you happy and sad to see the risk that he puts himself through for another soul.
That doesn’t detract from how hilarious this episode is though. So many great bits. Tahani’s American imitation and ability to roleplay a hotdog-based torture demon is a kick. Jason’s idiocy is at peak hilariousness here (like his confusing about apples versus origins and whether you eat their “clothes”). Good Janet trying to hard to be Bad Janet is a comic treat. The bits we here about Mindy St. Clair and Derek getting it on via windchimes are the weird sort of funny. And all the example of low-grade crappy tortures and behaviors are mostly easy gags, but each amusing.
The bigger storylines are strong too. Chidi being unwilling to lie because he’s a Kantian, and then being talked into moral particularism is another good bit of character growth (in the form of a free-reading Eleanor) that moves the plot by having Chidi do his best to fit in with the bro demons (including a delightfully douchey Dax Shepard) to maintain their cover. Michael trying to preserve the same ruse leads to some great tension. And hell, even Jason’s seemingly throwaway molotov cocktail bit actually comes in handy (with a hilarious "JORTLES!" capper).
Overall, it’s one of the most elegant episode of The Good Place so far, where comedy followed character, character followed plot, and plot followed sentiment, all in one beautiful bit of television parsimony.
[7.8/10] “Previously On” is the sort of episode that answers the questions fans have been asking from the beginning. Who caused the hex? (Wanda) What made her do it? (Cumulative trauma) Who’s controlling it? (Sort of Wanda, sort of not.) What’s the deal with Pietro? (Total fake). What about Vision? (Wanda recreated him.) What’s Agnes’s angle here? (A witch trying to attain more power a probably drain Wanda the same way she drained the rest of her coven.)
For a lesser show, these could be mechanical answers to mechanical questions. Instead, this episode answers those technical points while also getting at the why of all this. It confirms, once and for all, that WandaVision is a story about the slow accumulation of trauma, and the ways the shiny sitcom worlds on the television screens are an escape from it.
Agnes (or Agatha, depending on your preference), plays Ghost of Xmas Past with Wanda, forcing Wanda to guide her through major events of her history in an effort to uncover how she became this powerful. Rather than centering on incantations or magical artifacts (give or take an Infinity Stone), it hinges on the moments of both comfort and loss in Wanda’s life.
It’s a strong conceit, giving Elizabeth Olsen plenty of notes to play across the years and showing how Wanda has lost so much of the year. We start with a scene of serene domestic bliss, or what passes for it in a war-torn Eastern Bloc country, with Wanda and Pietro as children with their parents. Suddenly a bomb disrupts the peace of “TV night”, destroying the young kids’ lives amid a moment of happiness and depicting events described in Age of Ultron. \
That sets a pattern for these things, where each moment involves how Wanda copes with such losses. We see her becoming a freedom fighter (or terrorist, depending on your vantage point), out of an attempt to avenge her parents in a way. It leads her to connect with the mind stone (something that, alongside a shadowy figure, will no doubt be explored in more depth later). The experience heightened her powers, but was also a source of further trauma, of being experimented on and treated as disposable.
(Just my crazy theory: [spoiler]I predict that the shadowy figure Wanda saw in the Mind Stone will be Wanda herself, from the future, creating a stable time loop and deciding to set these events into motion, even knowing the hardships of where they lead, because it’s a way to let love persevere.[/spoilers].)
But then we get the best scene in the whole episode, where we jump to Wanda still grieving her brother’s loss, another unfathomable trauma, only to get some unexpected comfort from Vision. The writing and acting here is magnificent. The imagery of Wanda talking about grief as a series of waves, continually hitting her every time she tries to stand, is haunting and effective. But Vision’s retort, of not knowing what loss is given his origins, but appreciating the notion that it is love persevering, is just as beautiful a counterpoint. You can see the way the two of them are connected not just through the mind stone, but through their unique experiences of grappling with the human condition from opposite sides, of learning how to move forward together. The chemistry, easy rapport, and connection between them in those moments is off the charts.
It’s a minor miracle. Having lost everyone close to her, Wanda forges a connection with someone else, someone who helps fill that space. Only then, he’s taken from her too. The final flashback we see is Wanda barging into Sword and seeing Vision being torn apart. We see the man she expected to be waiting for her when she was un-blipped lying in pieces before her. She reaches down and can no longer feel her, the last thread of that connection severed.
It’s enough to send anyone sprialing. We witness the mechanics of what happens next -- a grief-stricken Wanda coming to Westview, uncovering what was meant to be the place where the rest of their lives together began, the ghost of a new chapter of domestic bliss that she was once again robbed of by chaotic forces.
So she snaps. She explodes in her grief, for her parents, for her brother, and for her love, each ripped away from her in the times she most needed comfort, most thought she could be safe and happy like those people on the television screens.
That’s the most piercing thread of “Previously On.” At each stage, Wanda watches these sitcoms as a form of relief, of escape, to have a glimpse of the life denied her by circumstance and tragedy. She’s watching The Dick Van Dyke Show and seeing a happy couple when her parents are killed. She’s watching The Brady Bunch and a couple of friendly but needling siblings when she and her brother are treated like lab rats. She sees the comical violence of Malcolm in the Middle where the father figure can endure large scale mishaps but come out unscathed because “it’s not that kind of show.”
The import is clear. The allure of these stories, this pristine or even hardscrabble sitcom worlds, is that even when the edges are rougher, tragedies rarely happen. Happy families get to persist, to flourish. They get to happen at all. It’s a world where the worst losses of the world are kept outside of the frame, made digestible and easily resolved, one half hour at a time. It is, a world where she can have the life that she dreamed of as a little girl, the life she and Vision imagined for themselves, back.
Who wouldn’t want to bury themselves in that world at a time when the universe has taken pound of flesh after pound of flesh from your body? Look, we’re talking about a famed Scarlet Witch using her “chaos magic” to rewrite reality for a small town in New Jersey. None of this is down-to-earth exactly. And yet there’s something that feels so relatable, even natural, to Wanda choosing (or instinctively reacting) to conjure the sort of place that’s bereft of the traumas she’s suffered again and again and again.
We know the ruddy details now: that Agnes wants power, that Hayward wants a Vision of his own, that Wanda is firmly the source of the Hex. But more importantly, we understand why it came to this. “Previously On” gives us all those stark moments of love and joy and happiness that Wanda was robbed of, and the comforting glow of a place where no such heart-wrenching thefts can occur. Whatever season-ending fireworks happen next week, no one can blame poor Wanda for retreating into her static-filled dream world, when so much of her life has been this crystal clear nightmare.
Before Anthony and Joe Russo were directing superhero movies, they worked on a little show called Community. The series, oddly enough, had some common ground with The Avengers. Both were about seven people from different backgrounds who came in with their own damage, bounced off one another in interesting ways, but would, now and then, come together to do amazing things.
But one of the most remarkable things about the was its mastery of tone. The series was pitched as a comedy, and true to that billing, it was a damn funny show. And yet it could just as easily shift into something quiet and personal, something unremittingly dark, or something complex and difficult without the easy answers that are seemingly required on a network sitcom.
So when watching Captain America: Civil War, I couldn’t help but see how the Russos had brought that amazing ability to balance different characters and tones and translated it onto a much bigger stage without missing a beat.
Because Civil War is hilarious. It is action-packed and all kinds of fun. It’s full of impressive moments and inventive sequences and fights big and small that are filled with feeling and imagination. And at the same time it is, in its own way, a very dark film. It touches on big ideas like moral responsibility and guilt and the dangers of unchained power, but grounds them in characters, and individual moment, and personal relationships. It is a smorgasbord of moods and stories that makes you laugh, makes you gasp, and make you feel the tragedy of a given moment, without letting it clash. And that is one hell of an achievement.
That achievement is all the more impressive given how many moving parts there were to this clockwork behemoth of a film. Civil War features no fewer than twelve heroes, three major villains, and a bevy of supporting characters, and nearly all them get a moment in the sun. Nevermind the fact that on top of all of this, the film had to introduce two new characters slated to get their own films -- one of whom was under the radar for most non-comic book fans, and another who was laden with the expectations that come from being a household name with two prior uneven franchises under his belt.
But Black Panther was far from a third wheel amid the super-powered clash at the top of the card, and his motivations and outsider status with The Avengers gave him a unique role to play in the narrative, an important arc in the film. Spider-Man, for his part, had the kind of chummy-if-overwhelmed vibe with Tony Stark that you’d hope for, and proved himself an enjoyably free spirit in the big battle. And everyone else in the film, from Ant-Man’s show-stealing humor, to Vision and Scarlet Witch’s endearing connection, to Rhodey’s loss, had an important part to play, without anyone getting lost in the shuffle.
That balance is made all the more difficult by how much oxygen Captain America and Iron Man take up at the top of the card. There is a history between the two characters. They have never seen eye-to-eye, and the films in the MCU have never shied away from that, even as they’ve brought the two of them together for their shared struggles. And again, Civil War does well by using the disagreements and difference between these two men as symbols for a larger debate, for bigger issues between them, while never detracting from the personal side of their beef.
To be frank, it took some work to convince me that Tony Stark would be in favor of the Sokovia Accords, which put The Avengers under the supervision of a U.N. Committee. And yet, the film shows Tony’s interaction with a woman whose son perished in the rubble of Sokovia. He’s seen the collateral damage of their actions and he’s feeling the guilt of it. The film does well to couch Stark’s position in terms of his weapons dealing -- he made his living in an industry where his seemingly harmless actions were leading to innocent people being hurt and killed, and he realized he had to do something. For Tony, this is no different. He’s worried about the collateral damage from their actions.
Steve Rogers, for his part, is understandably much less trusting of government supervision. He’s the one who blanched at the discovery that Shield was using Hydra technology to create weapons; he’s the one who saw Hydra take over the organization he worked for from the inside, and use good people to ill-ends, and he’s the one who’s seen his best friend brainwashed and used as a weapon for geopolitical conflict when the higher ups felt it necessary.
At the same time, he’s also concerned about there being a need that he can’t respond to because of red tape. He’s worried that innocent people will suffer, that people who need saving won’t be saved, because the people who try to do right will be too hamstrung by procedure and approval while the good people suffer. He’s worried about the collateral damage from their inaction.
But these are not simply grand philosophical difference between the two of them. Civil War ties it into their unique psychological baggage, which comes to a head in a confrontation between the two of them in the second act of the film. Tony has lost the people in his life that matter to him -- Pepper and his parents, and their absence casts a major shadow over his part of the film. This fight, this struggle, has kept him from the parts of his life that made it all worth it for him, that gave him his Batman-like need to protect them, to create a world where no one would have to suffer that kind of loss.
But Steve, despite his status as a man out of town, found his family. The Avengers, new and old, gave him a place where he felt like he belonged, people who had fought alongside him like the Howling Commandos once had, and became his brothers and sisters in arms. Steve is this close to signing the accords until he finds out that because of them, Tony has Wanda Maximoff under what amounts to house arrest. That’s a bridge too far for Captain America. He isn’t worried about getting people back; he’s worried about outside forces taking them away.
So there is a schism, caused by Secretary (nee General) Ross from above, and Zemo from below. The former is the liaison of the Sokovia accords, who attempts to maneuver his way into corralling more superheroes after his run-ins Hulk, and the latter is a man who lost his family thanks to The Avengers, and is determined to use any means necessary to tear them apart, to have their empire crumble from within. And in the middle of that schism is Black Widow, who’s pragmatic enough to know that Tony’s right in the logistics of it all--that they’ll get a better deal agreeing to conditions than having them forced on the group, but sympathetic enough to understand why Steve can’t get on board, what his connection to her and this group means, and the threat posed by anything with the ability to forcibly sever it.
And then there’s Bucky. While Black Widow is a tie that brings Captain America and Iron Man together, The Winter Soldier is a wedge that drives them apart. When Steve sees Bucky, he sees his childhood friend, the one who knows his mother’s name and, with the death of Peggy Carter, is his last real tie to the life he used to live and the man he used to be. He sees family, and connection.
But when Stark sees him, he sees, by dint of Zemo’s machinations, the man who killed his parents, who took away his last chance to tell his father that he loved him, who, brainwashing or no brainwashing, snuffed out a light that Tony needed desperately in times like these. He sees the end of family, and the severing of a connection he will never be able to get back.
That’s what makes Civil War so powerful. In a genre of escalating bombast, it brings the conflict back to the small and personal. The film’s opening action scene gives a moment in the spotlight to each of the new Avengers; the subsequent chases and rumbles featuring The Winter Soldier are a visual treat, and it all culminates in an internecine conflict among the heroes that stands as one of the most creative, entertaining, and thrilling action set pieces since the Battle of New York in the first Avengers film.
But instead of that continued escalation, the film narrows its focus after that. The climax of the film comes from a personal reveal -- not only that Bucky was the Starks’ assassin, but that Steve knew and had the gist of it, if not the specifics, but never said a word. A film with so many characters and themes and stories comes down to a conflict between three people. That is the heart of the film -- a dispute, a wedge, that is as personal as it is philosophical, that is as meaningful because of the characters as we’ve watched them grow and develop as because of the fact that it’s two icons locked in combat with one another.
And that too, was one of Community’s strengths. For as outrageous and absurd and cartoony as the show could get, at its best, it drew all that weirdness and humor and conflict back down to the simple, emotional, and human. Tony Stark is still quick with a witty, sarcastic remark. Steve Rogers can still take a beating and deliver one in return. And their conflict is the culmination of more than that, of difference of opinion, of lifestyle, of their place in life and their place in relation to one another, with their team and their family.
As grandiose and ambitious and multi-faceted a film and narrative as Civil War presents, at its core, it’s a story about two people who care about each other breaking away, about the elements of their relationships and their histories and psyches that drives them to do it, and the extraordinarily human reasons that both pull them back together and tear them apart. These are the kinds of themes the Russos brought with them from their old gig, and they make Civil War more than just the flash and excitement of the good guys coming to blows; it’s a film that crystallizes from the connections between its characters, between the emotions and experiences that drive them, between the humanity, humor, and heart that drives the Marvel Cinematic Universe and produced what may be its greatest film to date.
Favorite part of the episode is seeing the Razorback in action. That sequences of the UN ship racing after Bobbie and Dapper in the Julie's raceship, and then having Holden's crew come in to save them. This was intense on so many levels. Reminds me of high speed car chases in space. Kinda like the awesome chase sequences in the Fast/Furious movies. On a character basis, watching Bobbie and Avasarala bond in high adrenaline situations, with Bobbie in her home territory (space) just makes me love both even more. Awesome women protecting and supporting each other. Major kudos to the production design time in their vision of the Razorback... that is one beautiful ship, both inside and outside. Also how awesome are the mechanics of the inside. Also kudos to the SFX team for some movie level work, something i'd expect from a major motion picture.
I'd also need to mention the sequence with Amos and the botanist, when he tools come loose during their mission to save the Razorback. One of the most badass sequences ever, inside the ship and outside of it.
Also, it's nice to have Amos have a friend. His developing relationship with the Botanist is a welcomed change for Amos, who is all about fighting and destorying, as we have seen. But with the botanist, he can create things to help the ship stay alive.
So Elizabeth MItchell is now on this cast for S3 and I'm ecstatic about this. Though she plays a reverned, she isn't holding back. In our intro to her, she commands military guards who are beating on protesters to make sure the man he injured gets proper medical treatment after the very same guard mistankenly hit her too, then she heads to the Sec Gen to tell him he's full of shit. I couldn't have imagined a better intro for Mitchell. Also interesting choice in making the Rev a gay woman.
Can I say my new dream is to have Avasarala and the Rev meet.
So they are using the kids to control the protomolecule, cause their illness makes them immune to it... I hope the show gets deeper into how some of this works... but at least we know the botanist's daughter is still alive and being kept safe... for now.
I like that this show doesn't let us forget that Holden is a startegical genius, this is what he spent his life training to do... to lead in battle and out play the enemy... for the good of the people.
And finally Holden and Avasarala meet.... I've been waiting for this since season 1. Also, it's going to be interesting to see Holden interact with Bobbie.
Now that I’ve watched the entire series in literally one sitting, I’m ready to go back and go through it more slowly. Maybe take notes on each ep about the things I love and things that might trigger others.
There is just so much world-building for all that it is set right here and now. The layers of detail and the breadth of the world created is just fascinating.
Each location truly feels separate, probably because they did actually film on location heh. And each culture feels very distinct which creates such a sense of realism.
I am genuinely impressed with the technical aspects of this show: directing, writing, editing, cinematography, etc. But the heart of it is the chemistry between the main cast and how well they demonstrate the sudden intimacy that their new situations create.
Nothing felt inevitable, there was always a sense of risk and possibility. At the same time, the things that do happen feel right and true to the characters and situations. It’s masterful.
I feel so fortunate that this show exists and that I got to see it.
All that said, there are some incredibly intense moments in the show. There is a suicide in the early part of episode one. Later there is various levels of gore and violence. And if you have any bodily issues, the fact that the show in no way ignores the biological issues of cis women’s bodies might shock you.
As far as I can recall, however, there is no animal harm or rape/attempted rape. I specifically recall a scene where I was like, “oh thank fuck! he’s only trying to murder her.”
At the end of the day, the people I cared about survived and/or triumphed enough that the hardships they went through felt worth it. Intensity level-wise (language, sex, violence, plot) I would compare it to Starz’s Spartacus series. Quality-wise too, it’s that good.
Love comes and ends in the strangest place, and perhaps Miller's love story is one of those few that makes sense when one person's sacrifice saves millions others.
The episode concludes their arc beautifully. It starts with a weary, hardened life of a Belter in a routine job, got caught in webs of strings larger than themselves, then they got back right at where they started - the mystery, the bird, the girl, even though they might be a mere artificial replica of it. Their obsession and goal might seem strange to some, but having lost their job and purpose, it would make sense to cling on something that they have been pursuing all along. The scene where we thought they might find refugee in salvation in the Nauvoo evokes the disorientation they have been having, and the way this episode closes back to what led them to this in the first place is done right.
The last few minutes were mesmerizing and beautifully sad. Blue glimmering light shines upon the dark hallways of abandoned station. "There's alien life in the universe, and I'm riding it," said Miller, before they end up appreciating what waited for them in the end of the hallway. Strong performances by the actor has made them one of my favorite characters in The Expanse, and I will miss their wit, but this is a concluding episode well done.
"They're just people. But they snap their fingers and we jump."
Interesting episode showing the clutch of corporation in the lives of the superheroes. Heroes have to obey metrics--viewership, social media likes--they have to perform, to play the role of heroes to satisfy the demands of the markets.
The life threatening crime of robberies are made mundane, as shown when Homelander and Maeve have a casual chit-chat about their employers while performing cool action stunts of "saving the world". Which, in actuality, is a no-mercy beatdown of a guy who surrendered as soon as they appear. But they have to play their part: "the bad guy shot first", that's why it's legal to murder him. In the same vein, Starlight has to upgrade her costume, to show a "transformation" from a country girl to a metropolis supe. She doesn't like showing off her body, but once she signed the contract, her body is no longer hers--it's of the corporation. The supes may have physical power, but the billionaires have political and cultural power.
We have watched this mundanity before in the form of other entertainment--Marvel Cinematic Universe. Life-threatening actions were played out as jokes and mundane routines. And us the viewers enjoyed it, because it gives us "cozy feelings". But, like most performers, heroes hide secrets. And that's where the Compound V plot kicks in.
This episode attempts to show what sci-fi usually does: a commentary not of the future, but of the present. The subplots are knitted neatly to each other, marking a distinct theme. We tread carefully as plans and ploys unfold--and failed--but as they go, more possibilities were opened up. We watch our Hughie becoming more convinced of his place in The Boys. We see his conscience in opposition to the other veteran members of professional killers.
The great thing about this show so far is how everything is not portrayed as merely black and white. Superheroes may do bad, but they are all still humans who submit to corporate governance. While our boys may seem to have clear motives of taking down corrupt heroes, but they too are vested with their own interest. Hughie acts as our moral compass--the only ordinary guy, who happens to be trapped inside this clusterfuck.
After my wordy thoughts regarding how Netflix chose to do the first episode, I feel conflicted about this one... :confused:
On one hand my inner fanboy wants a closer representation of what happened in the books, especially as they decided to cut out practically everything from the original short story "The Edge of the World". I so wanted to hear the witty back and forth between the "devil" Torque and Geralt. I didn't even expect Lille, but at least more of the fun wheat field-scenes....
But then again I can see why they decided to go this route: They had to fit three stories and two and a half meaningful introductions into 60 minutes. And the focus was clearly on Yennefer with 34 minutes, compared to 14 minutes for Geralt and 11 for Ciri. You can't possibly fit a 60-odd page short story into 14 minutes. It just doesn't work. So they didn't even try and just left the parts in that would have been relevant for a "Previously on The Witcher..."-reminder somewhere down the line. I personally would have prefered if they would have decided to use a different story for the introduction of Jaskier, so they could use more of the short story later on.
But did it work as an episode, if you wouldn't try to compare it to the books? Phew... That's a tough one...
Let's start with the easy one: Ciri. Ciri's part worked quite well, fleshing out her character and showing us how she clearly isn't the naive little princess. But she clearly needs some guidance. Without the help of our hooded teenager ex machina she would have died within the first minutes of her screentime. And they cleverly used him and the scenes with the noble familiy's servant to show us that she obviously is far less simple minded and xenophobic than her surroundings. She's going to have a tough time in The Witcher's world.
Geralt: I've already spent 187 words on his 14 minutes, therefore I'll keep this one short: Our Butcher of Blaviken had only little room to develop and or showcase his character, but he used them wisely. Netflix made a wise decision in sticking to his philosophical side and I hope he gets more chances to show it off. This was like the abstract on a multi page paper about the possible future relationship between humans and elves. I hope Netflix lets Geralt read from the main parts of his papers every now and then.
Jaskier: He's very promising and I can't wait to hear more from this witty, whiny and surprisingly musical fellow. I always knew he was supposed to be a great bard, but somehow I thougt he wouldn't be that catchy. We really need his songs out there to buy and or stream!
Yen: This was a Yen-episode and practically everything was original. In the books we only learn very little about her past, so there's a lot of room to go all out for the writers. And I think they will, creating not only an origin story for her, but adding in new, fleshed out characters, new conflicts, and adding lore to the sorcerers and how magic works in The Witcher. I hope they don't try to create a hard magic system for the show, but keep it as soft as it is in the books. I'm interested in how she develops and turns into a multi faceted sorceress.
I'll give this one a 8 out of 10. Why, after I've spent lamenting about the differences to the books for around a third of my comment? Because I stand by my word and will try to see this as a stand alone re-telling of my favorite stories. And it's a promising second episode to what will hopefully turn out to be a very successful and longer running show.
The main reason I decided to watch this movie was because of all the good things I'd heard about it. The fact that it's in black and white did put me off a bit but because when modern movies are made in black and white it's a style choice and most of the time it doesn't really add much to it. A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night (2014) was also black and white and I enjoyed that one so I decided to give it a try.
I can't say I was as blown away by this movie as a lot of other people were but it definitely wasn't bad. After 1 hour of watching it I still wasn't sure what the point of the movie was but as it turns out it's just a story about a womans day to day life working for this not-so-perfect family. It is very real though and not in some epic very hollywood way. It just shows a very real human experience.
It's a slow movie and it's definitely not dramatic(although it does have its intense moments) so if you're expecting something grand and fast-paced you're bound to be dissapointed.
The amount of dog shit in this movie gave me anxiety. I also really wish I could kick Fermín in the nuts, proper dickhead that one.
[9.4/10] Stop and consider the magnitude of this achievement. Avengers: Endgame is not just a film. It is not merely the “season finale” of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It is the culmination of eleven years of multifaceted storytelling that balances dozens of characters, ties off story threads that have stretched and weaved and intersected over the past decade, and crafts a final challenge worthy of being the capstone to this mega-franchise. That it happened at all, let alone that the series ends on a note so poignant, funny, and exhilarating, is an absolute miracle -- or at least, if you’ll pardon the expression, a marvel.
Rest assured, if you’ve never seen an MCU movie before and decide, for some inexplicable reason, to jump in here, you will be helplessly lost. Those hoping for standalone accessibility will be frustrated. But one of the best features of Endgame is how layered yet modular it is. If you’ve only watched the Avengers team-up flicks, you can still keep up with the film given its easy-to-follow structure and brief explanations of how we arrived here. (The latter are typically laden with wisecracks to help the medicine go down). If you’ve dipped into the other major MCU films here and there, you’re liable to appreciate the cameos and connections that make this installment feel as much like a reunion as it does a finale. And if, like yours truly, you’ve watched the whole series from beginning to end, you’ll love both the little callbacks to past moments and personalities, and the way the film expertly weaves twenty movies’ worth of relationships and personal developments into one final, unfathomably satisfying tapestry.
Endgame can be essentially divided into three parts: (1.) the hangover from Infinity War (2.) the “Time Heist” and (3.) the final confrontation and epilogue. For a film with as many characters and stories as this (presumably) last outing for the original Avengers team has, that structure helps keep the movie from feeling ungainly. There are clear goals and distinct changes in the objectives from hour to hour that keeps the film manageable, even nimble, as it ties so many stories and personalities together.
The first hour of Endgame is easily the most heartbreaking. The most commendable thing the film does is take time to show our heroes coping with that unimaginable loss. Endgame certainly takes a page from the first Avengers flick by spending its first act getting the band back together, but not before it deals with what split them apart. Having an opening twenty minutes where the good guys kill Thanos, but all hope of reversing his grim deeds has been lost, is a deft choice that immediately pumps the brakes on the audience’s expectations, and gives the Avengers reasons to make good on tensions that have been bubbling up for years. Before the film dives into making things right, it stops to process what went wrong.
That means taking stock of where the Avengers are five years after the events of Infinity War and feeling their pain and efforts to heal. There is something heartening in seeing Steve Rogers still leading support groups and trying to make lives easier for people. There’s something piercing about Natasha keeping the lights on for The Avengers but still feeling the loss of her wayward best friend. There’s something funny but sympathetic about Thor’s reaction to his belief that he’s failed being to wallow in distractions and simpler pleasures. There’s something touching about Ant-Man reuniting with his now-grown daughter who thought she’d lost him forever. There’s something bitter about Hawkeye turning into a murderous ronin after the devastating loss of his family. And there’s something oddly right about Tony only being able to accept the quiet life after his worst fears have come to fruition, with a wife and a daughter and a cabin on the lake. Savvy viewers know that the dusting at the end of Infinity War is destined to be undone, but Endgame doesn’t shy away from showing the effects it had on the survivors in the ensuing, difficult five years, which makes those losses matter and serve as meaningful motivation, even if we know they’re unlikely to be permanent.
But, of course, a blockbuster film can only permit itself to wallow for so long. After everyone is reunited and convinced that Scott Lang’s longshot effort to right what went wrong is worth a try given the magnitude of what was taken, the fun, and the “Time Heist”, begins.
It’s there that Endgame becomes, at least for long stretches, an enjoyable romp, finding a different, more diverting gear that most Marvel movies kick into sooner or later. The chance to have our heroes dip back into key moments of MCU history, playing around with old friends and enemies, using knowledge of the past and the future to bring humor and clever twists to the fore, is an utter delight. Whether it’s Captain America having to go toe-to-toe with himself like some live action Capcom game, or War Machine and Nebula reframing the opening to the original Guardians movie as idiocy, or Steve sidestepping another elevator fight with a well-placed “Hail Hydra”, this stretch is what lets the Avengers be those lovable, mischief-making scamps that we’ve enjoyed watching even apart from the world-moving stakes and personal struggles.
And yet, the film also uses those hops through time to underscore those internal struggles as much as it revels in the fun of being a cameo-coated heist flick. Iron Man and Captain America both go back in time to the 1970s, where Tony resolves the daddy issues that have been at the fore of his personal issues since Iron Man 2, and Steve is haunted by being both unimaginably close and unimaginably far from his greatest love. Thor has an unexpectedly touching reunion with his mother circa Thor 2, that helps him recover from the debilitating sense of being a failure. And last, but anything but least, Black Widow and Hawkeye realize what it takes to obtain the soul stone, and struggle with one another to pay its price themselves.
It is one of the more affecting sequences in the film, as two heroes essentially compete to save the other and sacrifice themselves. It’s one of the tensest fights in the film, given the obvious stakes, and shows the pair of “badass normal” in the Avengers at their best, in ways both personal and pugilistic. Natasha wins, and firmly and finally erases the red from her ledger, giving her life to save the world and doing so for the family and feeling she never thought she’d fine. It is a noble, satisfying, and hard but heartening death, that gives Black Widow the high point of the act before the massive, final rumble begin.
That’s one of Endgame’s canniest choices. It shows our heroes succeeding in their wildly improbable (if somewhat inevitable) mission, but that being only half the battle. The time-skipping reassembly of the Infinity Stones, and a painful but fruitful snap from The Hulk brings all of the old dust mites back, but that’s when the final bout of trouble begins. In a clever twist, 2014 Thanos used 2014 Nebula’s connection to her 2019 predecessor against her and, with knowledge of the Avengers’ plan, travels to the future to stop hit. Surveying the aftermath of his original plan, he decides that it did not go far enough. He resolves to gather the stones once more to remake the universe in his image from the ground up, one without a memory of what was taken from them, and calls in his army to see that it happens.
It’s there that the rousing fanservice of the film erupts in earnest. Every fight-worthy MCU character of note (save those poor unloved T.V.-based heroes) bounds onto the screen at once to tear through Thanos’s goons together and stop the Mad Titan from completing his plan. The outcome of the skirmish is never in doubt, but its beats are as fistpump-worthy as anything you’re likely to see in cinema. Captain America calls Thor’s hammer as he, Iron Man, and the God of Thunder himself take on Thanos in three-on-one close-quarters combat. Black Panther saunters in triumphantly with his usual infectious resolve and Spider-Man swings back into action to ease Tony’s conscience. Captain Marvel gets the “Big Damn Hero” moment, and the utter thrill of seeing every warrior, fighter, and ally The Avengers ever crossed paths with assembled in one place take on Thanos’s equal and opposite army is a brand of high mark no other film can claim.
It is, in a word, uproarious, in the best possible sense. That final rumble is pure crowd-pleasing, with moments that verge on the pandering, but which never stop flooding the audience’s pleasure centers with superheroic dopamine. While the results are inevitable, the chills and spills to get there are too enjoyable to care, as Endgame makes good on its ultimate crossover promises to give anyone and everyone a moment to shine.
That closing salvo feeds three themes that have been with the Marvel Cinematic Universe almost since the very beginning. Time and again, the Avengers flicks have focused on the idea that these heroes are vulnerable when trapped in discord, but nigh-unstoppable when working together. For Tony Stark in particular, Endgame works as the final confirmation idea that, however much he may want to put the world on his back and go it alone, it takes trusting his teammates, and seeing the fruits of so much affection and connection from so many people, to save the world.
That effort, however, costs Tony his life. When all other options are exhausted, Tony himself nabs the Infinity Stones from Thanos’s gauntlet and, at the cost of his own life, snaps his enemy’s forces out of existence. It is a mirror image of the end of Infinity War, with all of the alien aggressors fading to flakes of ash, and Thanos himself crumbling under the weight of his crestfallen disappointment rather than looking with satisfaction upon a grateful world.
But those events mirror Infinity War in another, more spiritual way. Time and again in that film, Thanos was able to win because The Avengers were not willing to sacrifice one another to stop him. They were not willing to let others die, let alone put them in harm’s way, even to secure a victory. Here, on the other hand, we see the opposite side of that nobility. All of these heroes put their lives on the line to stop Thanos, but only Natasha and Tony know and accept the specific costs of their actions. Thanos loses not only because of the friendships and alliances forged in the name of defending what’s right, but because he underestimated the magnitude of the sacrifices that Earth’s Mightiest Heroes would make in order to protect the people they love.
That’s been Tony’s goal since the prospect of an unstoppable alien threat first emerged in the Marvel Cinematic Universe in 2012’s The Avengers. From his endless array of alternate suits meant to account for any possible threat in Iron Man 3, to his efforts to put an iron shield around the world in Age of Ultron, to his desire to save his compatriots from themselves with Sokovia Accords, Tony has arguably been obsessed with defending the world from the worst it can offer. In his final moments, Pepper tells him that he’s succeeded, that they’re safe now, that his long labor is finally over and he can rest.
The predictability of that end weakens the moment a little, but it’s buoyed by the reactions of those closest to Tony, and the ballast that comes from paying off eleven years of personal struggles, trials, and travails from the signature character of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
It’s only in the film’s closing segments, where it tries to grieve quickly and pass multiple torches that its fumbles the ball a bit. Whereas most of the Endgame’s events have a surprising amount of focus given the scope of the film, it’s that last little stretch where the movie’s supports start to buckle under so much weight, and the moments start to feel more scattershot. And yet it all ends on a high note, with Steve Rogers finally getting the happy ending – the long, joyful life with the woman he loves – that he had lost for so long. The move requires a little movie magic, and some timeline-shredding consequences, but rides on the total joy of him finally getting that long-awaited dance with Peggy Carter, and the beautiful future it implies.
That scene epitomizes Avengers: Endgame, a film that by all accounts, shouldn’t work, and shouldn’t even have happened. If you think about the details of Steve and Peggy’s reunion for too long, the whole thing is at risk of falling apart. And yet it’s the end product of so many great emotional moments, so many clever twists, so many pieces of plot and character and feeling that have been sewn together over the past decade of storytelling, that it cannot help but feel earned. Endgame is an unprecedented achievement, one that marries the lighter thrills of comic moments and superpowered fisticuffs, with committed, long term character work and emotional depth. The Marvel Cinematic Universe will continue, but we still never have a cinematic event as big, as momentous, and as multifaceted as Endgame ever again. Thank goodness for all of the assembly that was required, undertaken, and finished with this capstone.
The setting is contemporary, judging by the automobiles, but the ambience is decidedly 1950's era spy film noir. As for genre, I'm forced to call Counterpart science fiction, in that it involves parallel universes, but it's really like nothing else within that genre.
The general scenario is this: 30 years ago, for reasons unknown, reality split into two bifurcating, independent time lines. Until that point, all was unified, meaning that every character alive at that point shared identical histories. Now, things have begun to diverge. But there is a doorway between the universes in a building in Berlin.
Again, for reasons unknown, the two sides have been both communicating with, and spying on, one another through this doorway, and this is where our protagonist Howard Silk (J.K. Simmons) comes in. "Our" Howard is a low level functionary in this spy agency who hasn't a clue as to what is really going on until, one day, his counterpart arrives with news that a woman from "their" side has been sent over to assassinate people on "our" side, including Howard's comatose wife. No one knows why, which is the prevailing state of awareness in this decidedly curious story. "Other" Howard decides that "our" Howard is critical to his investigation and, thus, the strange alliance begins.
J.K. Simmons is a phenomenal actor, despite often being cast in secondary roles, and Counterpart is truly his opportunity to shine. He plays a single character, but one with two separate backgrounds despite shared childhoods, a role requiring some subtlety and nuance. He plays both characters to perfection as the similarities and differences between the two create something of a broader character that calls into question our notions of identity.
In a way, Counterpart is an examination of the concept of self, or soul, but it is also an engaging mystery/thriller. Like its main character, the sum is both greater than, and equal to, its parts.
History became legend. Legend became myth.
And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge.
Based on J.R.R. Tolkien's epic masterpiece "The Lord of the Rings", Peter Jackson took up the challenge, that for the longest time was told about Tolkien's book: "Too complicated to bring a true version onto film, it cannot be done."
Describing "The Lord of the Rings" to the uninitiated may perhaps be best compared trying to describe the taste of wine: Sweet, a little bitter, and intoxicating. Yet to those, who have never tasted wine, the meaning behind this description will forever elude them.
What makes this trilogy stand out amongst other equally brilliant movies, is each individual aspect of this movie is an astonishing work of art and ties "The Lord of the Rings" to something larger than the sum of its parts. The cinematography is breathtaking, in the most literal sense of the word. At times you will hold your breath being consumed by the sheer beauty of Middle Earth. You will quickly forget your surroundings and be plunged into this world. The original score composed by Howard Shore can be considered a masterpiece and Shore's magnum opus, his most brilliant work to date. Inspired by Richard Wagner, he composed the soundtrack around 80 different Leitmotifs, each focusing on an individual character/area/scene with recurring melodies throughout the trilogy. At the time of production, the most popular composers were James Horner and Hans Zimmer, and the music scene was quite astounded at Jackson's choice for the relatively unknown Shore. Jackson said his decision heavily depended on Shore's very unique style (as seen in 'The Cell') and his ability to bring something unique to each of his work.
The (special) effects are equally amazing and more importantly, believable. You will never feel like "Ah, special effects!", but be mesmerized by their authenticity. It almost seems nonsensical to talk about the performance by leading and supporting roles. They were real. I did not see them in their previous roles or as actors, they completely filled out their roles and added their own personality.
"The Lord of the Rings" is certainly not perfect, but if you came to expect perfection, you will forever be feeling disappointed.
It is however the closest thing to perfection as one might get without feeling pretentious.
If you watch this movie for the first time and have very high expectations from all the positive reviews, forget the reviews and watch it with an open mind, but also don't watch it thinking it could never live up to your high expectations, as you might miss out.
I, for one, will be watching this movie for many many years to come, and it has become quite the tradition to watch it at least once a year.
10/10 - You will witness the events unfold through the eyes of the Fellowship and come across joy, sorrow and even great despair. A true work of art that should not be missed.
"The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the Company is true. " Galadriel
