Bloodsport: “Nobody likes a showoff.”
Peacemaker: “Unless what they showing off is dope as fuck.”
James Gunn recently said in an interview that he finds superhero movies “mostly boring” right now. Anything ranging from safe and boring or technically well-made but disposable, at best. Gunn received at bit of heat from fans for those remarks, but in some sense, he’s not wrong. Because sometimes following the same formula will eventually wear fin and more risk taking needs to happen.
And here we have ‘The Suicide Squad’, the soft reboot to the 2016 film, but this time directed by Gunn himself, where he delivers a highly entertaining movie that is bursting with creativity and ultra-violence. James Gunn once again shakes up the superhero formula with a slick style. I’m just glad DC is finally letting directors have a voice and a vision, and I hope it stays like that.
The first 10-15 minutes tells you exactly what the movie is going to be.
I just can't believe we got something like this. It's 2 hours and 12 minutes long, but it's always on the move. It’s bonkers from start till finish, and I enjoyed every minute of it. This is probably one of the best shot movies in the DCU. The soundtrack is great as well and used effectively. The action scenes were insane and made the overall experience one of the most fun I had at the cinema in a long time.
A massive improvement over the 2016 film, AKA ‘the studio cut’, is that the movie doesn’t look ugly and isn’t chopped together by trailer editors. The movie is vibrant in colours that made it look pleasing to the eye. The structure at times is messy, and yet strangely well-paced, as there’s a lot going on.
Did I mention the movie is very gory? It’s cartoonish violence, or what people call "adult superhero movie", so it's not for kiddies or for the faint of heart. You would probably guess that not everybody on the team is going to make it to the end credits, so deaths are to be expected, but how certain characters “bite the dust” are so unexpectedly gruesome and brutal, it took me by surprise each time. The marketing for the movie was right, don’t get too attached. As I said before, James Gunn had complete creative control over the movie, and he doesn’t hold back on what he wrote and show on screen. But then again, it's a movie, it's not real, the actors who die on screen are fine in real life...I think.
All the cast members have equal amount of time to shine, and you like these super villains this time around, as each character had wonderful chemistry with each other. John Cena plays Peacemaker, who can be best described as a “douchebag version of Captain America”. An extreme patriot who will do the most horrific things for liberty. John Cena excels in the deadpan line delivery for comedic effect, but surprisingly enough, worked well in the serious moments. Looking forward to the spin-off show ‘Peacemaker’.
Margot Robbie once again nails the role of the chaotic but gleeful Harley Quinn. While the character isn’t front and centre this time around, more of a side character, but whenever the character is on screen, it’s instantly memorable.
Idris Elba plays Bloodsport, a contract killer who’s doing time in prison after failing to kill Superman with a kryptonite bullet, while also dealing with family issues, especially with his daughter. While the character may sound like Will Smith’s Deadshot from the 2016 film, but trust me, the execution here is much stronger. This is by far Elba’s best work in a while. Charismatic and a strong leading presence.
Polka Dot Man, played by character actor David Dastmalchian, a socially awkward, weird, and lame sounding character that has some serious mummy issues, which has a funny running visual gag throughout. However, because of Gunn’s writing and Dastmalchian's performance, the character is more than a joke, but a unique character to watch.
Ratcatcher 2, played wonderfully by Daniela Melchior, who brought so much warmth and heart to the film. I loved how they tied in her tragic backstory into the finale, as it honestly made me cry. And let’s not forget the king himself, King Shark, voiced by Sylvester Stallone. He stole every scene he’s in, because he’s so adorable and has such kind eyes, but when he’s hungry, he can be a killing machine.
The rest of the supporting cast, even in the smaller roles, still manage to stand out amidst all the chaos. I liked Joel Kinnaman as Rick Flag a lot more this time around, because the actor was given more to work with in terms of good material. Viola Davis is brilliant as the cold and ruthless Amanda Waller. And Peter Capaldi is always a pleasure to see. Also, I like the character of Weasel, who I can describe as a unholy offspring of Shin Godzilla and Rocket Racoon. He may not be beautiful to look at, but he's beautiful to me.
Like ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’, the movie has a lot of heart and I like how they took certain characters, who on page sound stupid and ridiculous but are handled with such love and depth, while also being self-aware of its own characterization.
You can literally watch this as a standalone movie and you won’t be lost or confused, as you don’t need to watch 22 other movies to understand it. This is by far the strongest entry in this jumbled mess of a cinematic universe.
Overall rating: Nom-nom!
This was actually awful. It's the drama and stress of a romantic comedy set during Christmas with the most irrational characters. It's like any other movie with a central couple but the twist is they're gay.
Pros:
- John
- Abby's hair
- The inclusion of LGBT characters.
- Not everyone is hot.
- The bonding scene between Riley and Abby at the drag bar and Riley's story about Harper.
- John's coming out story.
- Some of the jokes are actually funny.
Cons:
- Every interaction with Harper and Abby once they're in the car.
- Not a single problem is addressed until it blows up in one big fight and everyone is happy now that they've aired their dirty laundry. Jane doesn't need therapy from her parents shitting on her. Abby is okay with being called an orphan every time. Harper has self-awareness. Sloan realises that she's just a fucking bitch.
- No one apologises for the things they said in the movie. No one apologises to Abby for accusing her of theft. No one apologises to Jane for how they treated her. Harper can't be clear with Abby even when they're alone.
- Jane's one big scene where she gets upset at her painting being destroyed is ruined by it instantly turning into a joke.
- Every romantic comedy has issues stemming from a breakdown in communication. Harper and her parents. Harper and Abby. Sloan and Eric.
- Not a single person in this movie is realistic so I can't root for any of them.
Comments:
- We only see 1 happy bonding scene with the couple during the opening, then days and days go by of Harper shafting Abby and then the single moment where Abby expresses how unhappy she is, Harper calls her clingy.
- Harper's parents are horrible caricatures of rich people constantly shitting on Jane and making it obvious how Harper is the golden child.
- No one has any boundaries and it isn't funny.
Had such a great opportunity to be a unique Christmas film but then just fucked it up by being cliche and basic.
I know most people don't respond well if you say something negative about their favorite show but I can't help it. If you like it I'm glad for you (really) but please allow me my opinion.
I am one of those who doesn't think that this is THE best show ever. It's not even the best sitcom in my opinion. It had its moments but not many. Maybe it isn't fair to judge it 25 years after the fact because that is a long time in TV land and things change. But most of the stuff I dislike has nothing to do with timeframe.
First, why this is called Friends is beyond me. Those are the most dishonest, selfish, egoistic and sometimes even mean group of people I've seen on TV. They constantly try to withhold stuff and most of the comedic situations spawn from that. I don't see where it is funny to go behind your friends backs. There are those moments where there behave like friends should, but those come usually after they screwed up.
Than there is the characters. I've written in some episode's comment that Ross is the most obnoxious character I've ever seen on TV. And I've seen my share. And there is WAY too much of him and Rachel who I also disliked deeply. They pull down every episode they're in which is pretty much every episode. That constant back and forth, the bickering and their pretensious behaviour is so annoying. Joey was funny at first but that wears out fast once you get past 50 episodes. Very one-dimensional. I don't even know what to say about Chandler because he is that bland. Monica went from "I don't care" through "I kinda like her" but ultimately annoying. Phoebe I liked until she, too, got the I-need-to-marry virus. Until that she was honest in that she didn't care what others thought about her and just made her thing. Alltogether there was little character developement in any of them. I couldn't connect with them and was more interested in what guest stars might turn up next.
And what it is anyway with all the girls need to find guys to marry and get babies and the guys needing to score? It is a good thing there wasn't any social media available because with all those gay and trans jokes there would have probably been a lot of heat.
That laughing track is way over the top. It accompanied literally every sentence. It even ruined jokes by starting to early. And what is wrong with building up an emotional moment and going through with it instead of ruining it with a bad joke ?
So, why did I watch, and even complete, it ? It's simple. And I mean that in the true sense of the word. You don't have to pay close attention to the plot, f.e. you don't have to stop it if the phone rings, you can even skip an episode completely. It's like having a radio playing in the background. Sometimes reading the synopsis was as interesting as the actual episode. Let's be honest: continuity, logic and depth of story were not the trademarks of Friends. It is full of holes and errors. But it fitted my daily schedule. I could drop in a couple of episodes here and there. And I punished myself a little bit because I went out and bought the whole series at once. Had I watched the first season first I would stopped there and then.
This is the longest review I've written in a while which shows I thought about this show a lot. I like versitality, it would be boring if every show was the same. That doesn't stop me though from speaking my mind. This is a love or hate kind of show. I don't hate it as such. But there were only just one or two episodes a season I think were more than average. It became better towards the end (either that or I caved) but it was an effort to get through and I am glad I'm done with.
[8.8/10] There’s a funny thing about these updated, transmogrified Shakespeare adaptations like 10 Things I Hate About You. If you didn’t know better, you could call the plots convoluted. There is a complicated web of relationships and deceptions, to the point that you practically need a diagram to explain it properly.
In short, Michael helps his friend Cameron woo Bianca by convincing Joey to pay Patrick to date Kat, because Bianca, per her father Mr. Stratford, cannot date until Kat does. With me? Well then, it turns out that Kat dated Joey, and after Bianca picks Cameron over Joey, Joey picks Bianca’s friend Chastity, while Michael pursues Kat’s friend Mandella, as Kat and Patrick’s tempestuous relationship takes root.
It’s a little dizzying, and yet the complex string of friends and enemies and relationships that tow the line between put-ons and genuine affection track nigh-perfectly into the high school setting. Despite the dense qualities of that big ball of string’s worth of plot threads, the complicated social structures and intersecting circles of high school make for the perfect way to realizes The Bard’s comedies in the modern day.
But 10 things is more than just a transmogrified version of The Taming of the Shrew. It also a charming tale that captures the heart and hazards of adolescence at the same time it exaggerates them for comic effect. What’s most impressive about the film is how it has its cake and eats it too on that front. There are goofy beats and subplots that only happen in teen movies, like unexpected party scenes and famous bands showing up to play contemporary (hopefully) chart-topping hits for the soundtrack.
But amid that broader material, there is a real examination of what it is to play up or down to expectation, a theme present in the work that inspired 10 Things, but which is given new life in the guise of the teenagers who are at that point in the fraught process of growing up where they’re deciding who and what they want to be, in love and in life. The gross wager that turns into real love is a hoary trope (see also: fellow 1990s borrower She’s All That) but by rooting the romance at the core of the film in two people who embrace a thorny image and find the hidden depths behind the prickers in one another, the film does justice to its source material and resonates with a target audience trying to figure out which parts of who they are malleable, which parts are non-negotiable, and which parts are fit to be broadcast to the rest of the world (or at least, the relevant social circles)>
It is also just damn charming. The film is full of quotable lines and crackerjack exchanges between characters. The cutting aside is wielded well and often, and side characters like teachers (including the great Allison Janney) and parents (Larry Miller, who nails both comedy and emotion as Mr. Stratford) provide a backdrop of colorful characters for the main story to flourish in. The writing stands out in 10 Things not just for the amusing lines which liven some otherwise familiar teen material, but for the way it allows the film to, in true Shakespeare form, shift tones into more serious material when it needs to.
The same goes for the characters. Kat shoots off the best zingers in the movie, and with her rebellious attitude and literary bent, it would be easy to turn her into a one-dimensional avatar rather than a character. Instead, the film roots her perspective and demeanor in an experience with Joey that gives form to her concerns of Bianca following in her footsteps, and gives just enough context to her mom leaving to make the crisis of conscience and turning point understandable.
By the same token, Bianca could easily be a generic popular girl, and in fairness, at certain points of the film, she is. But she too has a simple but meaningful arc of playing to expectations only to realize that she doesn’t necessarily like what that gets her, and it allows the two sisters to grow in their understanding of one another in strong scenes that deepen their relationship.
The objects of their affection receive a bit of shading as well. The reveal that Patrick, who puts on a gruff exterior and bears the reputation derived from many humorous urban legends about him, is not as wild as he seems is, perhaps, a predictable one. But he gains strength from the way that he and Kat see bits of themselves in one another, Cameron is a bit flatter, learning a trite if endearingly-put lesson about not accepting the notion that he doesn’t deserve what he wants, but there’s enough there to give ballast to the enjoyable-if-disposable teen romp elements.
Even Mr. Stratford, who is arguably the most outsized major character in the film, gets a bit of shading. While he spits out awkward-sounding nineties slang and is comically overprotective and paranoid of his daughters getting pregnant, the film balances that with a subtext to his insecurities about Kat leaving for Sarah Lawrence. There is a Daria-like quality to the film’s ability to poke fun at the parent-child relationship, but also find the sweetness and sincerity in it.
That’s what makes 10 Things more than the sum of its byzantine bets and love triangles. Some twists are convenient, some gestures a little too big to work anywhere but on the silver screen, and some bits of forgiveness come a little too easy. Still, the film keeps its plot, humor, and drama working in sync, where one scene can make you chuckle, the next will let you get to know a character a little better, and the one after will tug at your heartstrings, just a little bit.
The oh-so-nineties soundtrack immediately places in the film at a specific moment in time, but it speaks to the relatable qualities of that quest to figure out both who you are, and who’ll accept you for who you are, that feel like life and death for all seventeen-year-olds. 10 Things is a touchstone for those who grew up with it, both for the quips and clever asides that let the film crackle, and for the notion of young men and women, cutting through pretension and presentation, and finding something true beneath it, in themselves and in the people they love.
3.5/10
This is movie is pretty much an excuse for Oprah to be bigger than everyone else in the film.
No, really.
The casting director on this should be shot. All performances felt so, very, incredibly fake. The only believable character was played by Chris Pine. EVERYONE else we come across is just awful. It could be the writing, the directing, etc, but the actors seem to be at fault here. It seemed so important to them to have a diversified racial palate of actors, that maybe they were just looking for a race, as opposed to an actual performance. I am not being racist, just look at the film and you will see what I mean.
The visuals were ok, but clearly very CGI. They didn't even try to get the lighting right on many parts, and that disgusts me for what this movie (original story from the book) could have been.
There is no development. You are thrown into these weird, unexplained characters, with a moody, but yet expressionless character (Meg). Then all of a sudden, they are on another planet, with some random dude joining them (Calvin), then suddenly the mothers (whatever the shit you call the big 3) disappear. Like. Why are they even in the movie? Idk.
I want my time back.
Juno is not only one of those movies about mistakes in adolescence or about an unwanted pregnancy, is above all a film about maturity that escapes to all the usual clichès of all films of the genre.
Juno is a 16 year old and she is a very confident and good with herself teenager. She always tries to accept everything in life with easiness and did not run away to her responsibilities when she discovered that was pregnant. Quickly managed a solution and being perfectly aware that she is not ready to be a mother she is looking for a couple to adopt her unborn child. But Juno soon discovers that everything that involves the pregnancy, both physically and psychologically, are not so easy to deal with.
The best thing this film has is perhaps the fact that we think he is taking us to a certain way and after all that happens is not quite what we were expecting. Escaping the usual clichès, ultimately becoming an honest movie and accepting the decisions of the characters without requiring them to be judged by the choices they make.
Ellen Page's performance is absolutely fantastic! Very natural and real, but did not only felt that about her but also from the rest of the cast.
Overall, Juno is a movie with a serious tone that manages to be entertaining addressing at the same time important key issues of life.
Do yourself a favour and watch this movie as blind as you possibly can. A lot of the enjoyment of this movie is derived from not knowing what you're getting yourself in for and having the movie unfold the way the creators intended.
Like many modern horrors, Fresh wears its subtext on its sleeve. What begins as subtlety makes way for literal "bashing-over-the-head" message delivery and I can't help but feel the movie suffers for it after all the goodwill it builds in the front half. The core idea here is very original (dare I say, Fresh? heh) and the performances handed in by Stan and Edgar-Jones are sublime. While ultimately I really enjoyed my time with Fresh, a lot of the shine was lost due to contemporary story telling tropes and its overt messaging losing all subtlety following the "reveal". Definitely a good time for those that roll with what Fresh is putting down, but any looking for something extra to ponder on will probably be dumbfounded by how clear and lacking-complexity the underlying message here is. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it though, this is exactly the kind of oddball, original horrors that I love and wish were made more often; I just need that one extra layer that was missing here to push it to a higher score. I'll give it an 8/10 on here because I can't give it a 7.5. But it's definitely closer to an 8 than a 7. Also special shoutout to the soundtrack, it was just jam after jam. Will be on my Spotify for the coming week.
Spoiler filled ramblings of thoughts about the plot below!
I really enjoyed how the movie was framing the literal commodification of the female body. Past the usual sexualisation and profiteering from the female form via photos and videos, Fresh captures this in the form of these body parts being removed and sold to the highest bidder. Legs, breasts and ass are all the prominently removed parts from the women we were shown. Additionally, the objectification of women is disgustingly framed to great effect with them shown as literal meat being consumed by wealthy, powerful men. Fresh clearly has a lot to say about all this, and while the message begins well veiled and woven into the idea of the film, by the end we're literally clubbing a woman who stays silent in this system and having the dialogue refer to her as the problem. By that point, you've removed all metaphor and you're just blasting the message directly to the viewer. Please leave at least some room for interpretation, not everything has to be clearly telegraphed at all times!
[9.6/10] Now that’s more like it! Episodes like these reaffirm my position that, while totally unfeasible on a network show in the distant, far off year of 2004, that Amy Sherman-Palladino should have written (and maybe directed) every episode of Gilmore Girls. I complained a good bit about the Season 4 finale and how it felt overstuffed and jumbled with too many moving parts that never felt like they had the chance to breathe. Well maybe that’s not a problem if the script is good enough, because “Say Goodbye to Daisy Miller” has nearly as many moving parts, different characters, and emotional states to juggle, and yet it’s everything that the prior episode wasn’t.
That begins with giving us Linday’s perspective on the situation with Dean. While the prior season made her into a one-dimensional witch, this one shows her earnestly trying to please her husband, dealing with his misplaced anger, and all-in-all doing her best despite the creeping knowledge that something isn’t right. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m inclined to give Gilmore Girls credit for making her such a straw man last season in an effort to get the audience to sympathize with Rory, if that was done with the intent of pulling the rug out from under us and showing the viewer that Lindsay is a real person with her own sort of love and feeling for Dean, which makes the waters much murkier.
For that matter, I love how the Rory/Dean situation is handled here. Despite that knot in your stomach when watching Rory and Dean have any affair, there is something so damn cute and endearing about the two of them in their post-coital bliss. That’s part of what the show wants to sell you on, the sweetness and relatability of that moment which is built on something awful, that horrid contradiction that something so joyful can be borne of something so hurtful. The two of them needling each other about what “their song” should be, jamming out to “Candy Man”, and just generally being enmeshed in the comfort and affection of one another is as heartening as it is disquieting.
It’s arguably the peak of the Rory-Dean relationship. No longer is Dean just a blandly nice beau, or the other guy in a love triangle, or an accessory to Rory. Instead, he feels like as much of a real person, one who has deep feelings for Rory, but also guilt and shame that he reprehensibly turns into anger at his wife rather than face.
And the episode makes good on the big moments in Rory and Dean’s past. The episode opens with their exchanging “I love you”s, the thing that broke them up in the first place. They rekindle their romance in Miss Patty’s dance studio, the place where their past “indiscretion” caused a town commotion. Hell, even Lindsay working her behind off to make Dean a roast for dinner has a certain “Donna Reed” quality to it. All of these moments play into the Heaven and Hell of what Rory and Dean are doing, and what they’re doing to Lindsay.
What’s even more commendable is how the bulk of Rory’s plot in this episode is trying to deal with that realization, of seeing that real person on the other corner of the love triangle and feeling bad about what she’s done. And what makes it interesting is how on the outs it leaves her and Lorelai.
We’ve seen the Gilmore Girls fight before, but something about this feels different. Even when they’ve been upset with one another, there hasn’t been the same sense of bad blood, the same anger or lack of camaraderie. It feels deeper and more meaningful, to where Rory is seeking advice from the well-meaning but inexperienced Lane (in a funny but meaningful scene) rather than talking things out with her mom.
And it’s a hell of an episode for Lorelai as well, one that embraces the same sense of Heaven and Hell. Here is this grand moment in her life -- her and Luke kissing and, potentially, starting a relationship, and yet she can’t revel in that, live in the joy of that development, because she’s not only worried about her daughter, but upset with and, however briefly, seemingly estranged from her. The beginnings of one (hopefully powerful) relationship are tarnished, or at least compartmentalized, and hard to enjoy, because of the weakening of the show’s foundational one. If there is one thing Sherman-Palladino excels at, it’s balancing characters’ complicated emotional states, and nowhere is that clearer than in the cavalcade of feelings Lorelai experiences throughout this episode.
The fights with Rory feel well-founded and real, the sort of “bitter but trying to be polite” vibe from both of them that makes the aftermath of their argument seem like it had an impact on both of them. But the sweetness of Lorelai/Luke unfolidng works as a nice salve.
For one thing, I love the choice to filter it through Sookie. Her giddiness at the two of them finally getting together is palpable, and it helps to add some of the levity and excitement that Lorelai, understandably, can’t bring to the table right now. At the same time, Luke is absolutely adorable. The way he’s sheepish and doesn’t want to tell people about what happened in case Lorelai doesn’t want to go through with it, his usual Luke-like reserve but clear happiness when things are working out, and his seven voicemails are all just the peak of sweetness from the normally curmudgeonly if affectionate in his own way dude.
And their phone conversation (both of them, really) is perfect. Luke does his best to keep it cool and not put pressure on Lorelai. Lorelai admits her affections in a roundabout way. And then a quiet, slow-spun felicity breaks across the scene. Lorelai is still down from her interactions with Rory. Luke is still nervous about where things might go from here. But in that moment, they realize that they have each other, that this thing might just work, and it gives them a light in the darkness. It’s beautifully, beautifully done.
But Emily is searching for her own light in the darkness, and as underserved as the fight between her and Richard was in the last episode, it’s given plenty of space here and the episode is all the better for it. The sequence where Richard and Emily return home, squabble, and then make a scene involving escapes from the basement and the neighborhood watch is a brilliant balance of comedy, anger, and drama.
In another subtle way, you see the hints of where Lorelai’s personality came from in Emily, in her ultimatum to Richard about going out the window, and in the back and forth the couple have while still smarting over their differences. There’s something very Lorelai-esque about this moment, and it’s sharp writing to bring that out in Emily at a time where she feels unconstrained, liberated in some ways from how things have always been.
The episode also gives her one hell of a line, when Richard looks upon this lack of decorum and declares that Emily is no longer the person he married, and she retorts that he’s right, because the woman Richard married was someone he treated as a partner and confidante, something Emily isn’t to him anymore. It’s a brutal barb, and injects real feeling into a semi-ridiculous, if no less effective scene.
The greatest achievement, however, is the way that Sherman-Palladino manages to weave all three stories of the Gilmore Girls together. Rory is enraptured with Dean once more, but feels the gnawing guilt of how it could affect Lindsay. Lorelai is minorly thrilled to embark on something with Luke, but feels the reluctance and inability to fully enjoy because of her concerns and fights with her daughter. And Emily is fed up with Richard, but excited to run to Europe and spread her wings. The way all three of these storylines and emotions and motivations collide in a single lunch is nigh-perfect.
It provides an excuse for Emily to do what she’d always meant to do, for Rory to run away from her guilt, and for Lorelai to steer her daughter away from temptation. It’s not all sunshine and roses, with the core of the negative still rooted in this small but potent solution, but it makes sense, and allows the episode to juxtapose these three women, each in some state of having their worlds changed by someone they care about, and each other, finding time to figure it all out.
“Say Goodbye to Daisy Miller” is a nigh-perfect hour of television. It manages to recap the events of the finale without actually doing a recap. It throws in comic fun like Michel’s interactions with Taylor. And there’s nary a bad scene or bad character interaction to be had. More than anything, Sherman-Palladino bites off a hell of a lot in the opening salvo of Season 5, but manages to chew every piece of it in a satisfying, endearing, and emotionally complex manner. Viva Season 5!
Starts with a guy released from jail that seems an asshole needing a piss. He takes a randon girl along with him to see his parents. He's unlikable.
His mother is purposely forgetting the past as a defence mechanism to hide the truth and cover her own failings. Many hints of parental guilt (maybe more stubbornness.) A fear of the boy you damaged is now a man and can hurt you (not physically.) The parents display a fakeness with layla. This is very true to life as much of this movie is. Billy is enduring painful memories of torment and being unloved but keeps quiet. The parents take to layla and demonise billy (like the knife pointing). Billy gets a little jealous of Layla's acceptence but not too much. He expects it. The questions are why do the parents hate Billy so much? Why did Layla go with Billy and what is her motivation? Whenever Layla discusses Billy the parenst don't want to know and zone out. An act of hate you rarely see on film. I'm thinking Billy being an asshole at the start was a clever way to make the viewer judge him. If the viewer can't snap out out of disliking Billy and have even a bit of sympathy then they won't enjoy the movie. The mother says she wish she never had Billy so we get closer to the truth. They blame Billy for all their failures, broken dreams, boredom and misery. It's abuse. So why did Billy take layla and why does he not hate his parents? He probably wants to be accepted and portray an image to them.
Billys bet portion of the story unfolds. He lost money and has to confess to a crime as payback for losing the money or his parents will have evil things happen to them. Point being that Billy could have had his revenge on his parents but he chose jail as he isn't like his parents in nature. Does he hate them? I'd say hes more conditioned. Is Billy A better person? Yes. But he's certainly a control freak that makes the simplest of tasks harder for himself.
Billy plans revenge on the guy he blames for the bet going wrong. After he l3aves his parents house he analyses and feel paranoid about the visit. This is a good character.
Billy goes bowling. Seems a place he actually has good memories and escapism but he still has high anxiety when things start going slightly wrong for him. The owner of the bowling alley is really well played. You can see he's watched Billy from a young lad and has sympathy (may he wishes he could have done more). The Billy character gets better as it goes on. Delicately damaged. Not too OTT and believable.
Billy and Layla stop for a drink and bump into Billy's past. Here we see Billy's social position and defensive/offensive mindset. He's reminded of who his is within groups and is made to feel bad for that. He could have had any women, which would have made him more normal by societies low standards, but his mind was different and he had bigger issues. We see the point when you realise you're just not like other people on screen.
Layla is slightly fascinated with Billy and good for him even though she or he doesn't know it. It's not totally a blind relationship. I think it works by feel. He sees her as pushy (she is) and she's a little mischievous. A good test for him. She finally gets to touch Billy and it's a genuinely tender moment as he has a problem being touched. I'm guessing he was never held much as a child or shown love so this is plausible.
Billy finds the guy who he wanted revenge on. He kills the guy and then kills himself. I thought it was an awful end and luckily it was just a thought. Movie saved. He changed his mind as he watched his parents at his fantasy funeral not giving a shit. He realised he did have someone that loved him back at the hotel room. The message i got was that It's hard to love when you haven't been loved but even an unconventional love is worth living for and can heal.
I enjoyed the movie a lot. I can see it not having a wide audience as it really is about one characters personal struggle and whether you relate to it or not. I think anyone with bad parents will especially like this. People that had bad parents yet made something of their lives with materialistic things will probably see billy as a loser or a bad reminder and dislike this movie be a use it is also a movie about the viewer being judgemental.
The only negative is that I took in all of the movie on the first viewing and I don't think the movie has much replay value. I'd watch it again maybe in ten years. We didn't find out much about Layla in the end.
Doesn't get more than 8 just because of personal tastes. If anyone else made this it would probably be a 6 at best from me. Very impressive.
[7.3/10] If there’s a good mix for a Halloween movie, it’s a healthy dose of camp paired with something deeper going on under the hood. The Craft offers both. On one level, it’s an over-the-top movie about high school girls developing magic powers and using them for both petty revenge and outsized mayhem. But on another level, it’s a story about processing trauma and one’s status as a misfit, where empowerment helps to overcome both states but leads to its own set of problems.
The movie works on each, and while it’s not a homerun, it’s enough fun in its high school as hell hijinks and piercing enough in its reflections on family dysfunction and loss to rise above its 1990s tropiness. Don’t be fooled, this is a film that works better as a dark but goofy lark than as a serious examination of the issues it raises (via index and middle fingers), but those topics give The Craft just enough ballast to be more than the standard dose of cinematic teenage drama.
Part of what makes it work, beyond that balance between the absurd and the real, is that it’s a surprisingly tidy little fable. Young misfits wish that they had the power to better their lives and push past their slights and hardships. Against all odds, they get it, and use it to right what they view as the wrongs in their lives. But there’s a “Be careful what you wish for” edge to it all, as their fixes go too far. That leads to the turn, where only Sarah, our protagonist, realizes that, while the rest of her coven embraces the despotic power of their new magical energy, forcing a confrontation and reckoning.
In that, The Craft plays like a cinematic-length episode of The Twilight Zone or The Outer Limits. It’s as much an aesop’s fable on human nature and power’s effect on it as it is a traditional witch tale or high school drama. Despite the supernatural bent and the messy hangout vibe that suffuses the film in places, there’s an unexpected amount of clarity to the film’s progression, where the girls’ hurdles are set up and knocked down, only for dissension in the ranks to emerge when Sarah in particular worries about where those knock-downs might lead.
But it’s that hangout vibe that gives the movie its charm. Even if the story were weaker, the tone less bonkers, and the subject matter less heavy, I suspect The Craft would have still earned itself a cult following for the dynamic between its four core characters. Sarah, Nancy, Bonnie, and Rochelle are not your typical highschool girls, but they’re not your typical outcasts either. The film captures that thin line between bonding and commiseration on the one hand and rivalry and recrimination on the other that infects teenage friendships.
It’s fun when they stay in to watch movies together or use magic to change their hair and eye color, and the sense of being in their counter-cultural, eventual power fantasy “circle” is inviting. At the same time, they decry one another as “bitch” and “slut”, envy each other’s powers, and ultimately turn on one another. It’s exaggerated and heightened given the witchy backdrop of the movie, but there’s a grain of truth to their interactions that adds heft to their jibes and eventually skirmishes.
Fairuza Balk excels at both sides of it. To be frank, most of the performances in The Craft play as pretty standard for the teen movie genre. None of them sinks to the level of bad, and the four leads together are able to sell a sense of camaraderie and conflict that fuels the film. But individually, they tend to feel like generic figures from a CW drama.
Balk, on the other hand, stands out as Nancy, the product of messed up home life who envies Sarah’s connection to Mamon, the divine energy of the universe, and aims to claim it for herself, whatever the cost. Only Balk seems to understand the twin poles of the film, unrelenting camp and psychological horror. She plays the messed up kid with problems deeper than she knows and the axe-crazy sorceress desperate to hold onto her power with equal aplomb. Her take on Nancy is the acting highlight of the film, and the only one in The Craft that both conveys the layers of her psyche and goes for broke in the film’s more outsized scenes.
Those scenes show creativity in the production design and cinematography. Make no mistake, there’s a fair amount of nineties cheese here with explosions superimposed over certain frames and some less-than-convincing CGI. At the same time, though, there’s creative cinematography, like the choice to focus on pierced fingers or tip-toe floating that conveys more subtle eeriness. Even in the bigger scenes, an array of vermin or lightning strikes uses the film’s effects budget for all it’s worth. Little of this is subtle exactly, but just an act of walking on water or quick cuts when driving through red lights can help unnerve the audience and communicate that something is wrong here long before it all erupts into a supernatural throwdown.
That final confrontation picks at something. Nancy donning Sarah’s face to seduce her boyfriend in the guise of protecting her reveals a low-simmering envy and resentment of the comparatively charmed life her friend and rival has lived. Her efforts to blame Sarah for all the death in her life, to persuade her to make good on a prior suicide attempt, is dark stuff for such a loopy film, tweaking notions of survivor’s guilt and self-hatred that have stayed with Sarah from her mother’s death in childbirth. And yet, in the end, it's her mother’s strength that empowers Sarah and gives her the confidence and gumption to neutralize her confederate turned betrayer.
It’s a lot for a movie that spends ample time showing our heroes flirting with boys, navigating the usual high school drama, and doing magic-fueled makeovers. But it’s also what makes The Craft a little more than just another fantasy film focused on teenagers. There’s a weight to the ideas the movie grazes in its friendships, friction, and power-struggles. At the same time, though, it’s an unassumingly goofy, over the top outing that revels in its gleeful campiness, in tandem with its dark and serious elements, rather than in lieu of them.
[7.7/10] The original mission of South Park, per its creators, was not to make grand statements about free speech and the news of the day, or even to make scads of poo and fart jokes. It was to dispel the notion that children are innocent little angels, and show the reality that they have the same good and bad, the same mix of decency and general crappiness, that their grown-up counterparts do.
Kids, which premiered just a couple of years before South Park, is that idea aged up and taken to the extreme. It is a disquieting, disheartening film, that depicts teenage men and women as perpretrators and victims of a depraved ecosystem of sex and drugs and disease. Within the confines of 1990s New York City, it predicts an impending crash, where the young people of the day are doomed to drift or rot or just hurt each other before they’re old enough to appreciate or at least countenance the consequences of their actions.
That catch is that there’s a dichotomy to Kids. At times, the film is laudable for its frankness in depicting the dynamic between young people, a time when we take our first steps toward seeing ourselves as sexual beings and experience the bit of freedom that quasi-adulthood confers. There’s something recognizable and potent in the film’s best stretch, where it cuts between a group of young men discussing sex and contrasts it with a group of young women having an equal and opposite discussion.
There’s a layer of truth there. The young men speak with bluster about conquests and in gradiose, fantastical tones about how badly the women in their lives want them and how masterful they are at their game. The young women contradict almost every line of that bluster, speaking frankly with one another about what they want and what they like in a way that doesn't begin to line up with the teenage boys’ fantastical descriptions of what can generously be termed their romantic lives.
Director Larry Clark goes for a cinema verite approach to the film, one that makes the camera feel like just another kid sitting in on these conversations. That helps lend an air of realness to the proceedings. But more than that, the conversations themselves have the ring of truth, the way that young adults compare notes and tentatively or bombastically speak to one another about sex and relationships. The dynamics to these relationships, particularly within these different, gendered social groups, feel true.
But the other half of the dichotomy comes in the form of a presentation that feels strangely sensationalized, despite the fly-on-the-wall approach to the film’s aesthetic. Look, I wasn’t a teenager in New York City in 1995. I can’t say one way or another how accurate the film’s depiction of rampant sexual assault, drug use, STIs, and latchkey kids using and abusing one another with seemingly no supervision.
And yet, there’s part of this film that feels very Reefer Madness, or even like the first part of Chick tract. I don’t know how many Middle American homes watched Kids, but despite its frankness and a lack of judgment in its documentary-esque style, there’s a sense that its aimed at a conservative crowd, there to convince the viewer that there’s a debaucherous underbelly of modern youth culture that’s going to result in a generation of drunken, drugged out burnouts and predators if we don’t wake up and do something about it.
A quarter-century later, it’s easy to view Kids as likely exaggerated and even a bit alarmist. To the extent it tries to represent reality, the parade of horribles it strings together, the depths of depravity it unveils, start to strain credulity and seem like a funhouse mirror version of polite society’s worst fears for the younger generation rather than a no-punches-pulled depiction of what teenagerhood is really like.
But whether it’s a reflection of real life degeneracy, or a hyper-fictionalized compilation of a bunch of worst case scenarios, it’s also an utterly gutting film. I’m a little too young to be scandalized by the notion of teenagers having sex or drinking or smoking pot. But it’s hard not to be pierced by the images of sexual assault, of ambivalence toward other people’s possible deaths, of the wanton transmission of then-fatal diseases under the guise of true affection.
The haunting specter of Kids is AIDS. The film lulls you into a false sense of security, making the viewer think this is a standard, if more frankly-depicted, story of juvenile delinquent behavior. Then it reveals that Jennie, the comparatively chaste girl in her cohort, contracted HIV from Telly, the sexually boastful young man who brags to his friend about trying to protect himself by only sleeping with virgins.
From there, the film truly becomes a horror movie, one where Telly and his compatriots casually and even playfully assault their distaff counterparts, steal, drink, smoke, and basically find any excuse to indulge their basest urges by whatever means necessary. The fact that their recklessness spreads a terminal illness adds an air of disturbingness to each interaction and moment.
That’s particularly true given the offputting level of intimacy, consented to and inflicted, throughout the film. Kids opens with what becomes its recurring motif -- a close up image of two young people making out, exchanging saliva and other fluids that, unbeknownst to them (or maybe willfully) could inflect one or both of them with AIDS.
The film focuses on these moments, showing Telly in particular not only sleeping with young women in the guise of some deeper connection masking a mercenary effort at conquest, but also spitting in open wounds, embracing friends and potential paramours, sweating and dripping and imposing other forms of contact on those around him. Kids depicts a community beyond simple depravity, but one where the worst comes from the fact that everything is shared: bottles, joints, and even sexual partners, to the point that when one member of that community is tainted, soon enough they all will be.
In that, Kids plays like a 1990s version of Lord of the Flies. Before South Park ever graced the airwaves with its cynical, transgressive take on how crass and crude young men can be, this movie took that notion several steps further. It shows teenage boys in particular as amoral predators, doing anything for sex or for a high with no other impulse or purpose or regard for what it may cost them or others. And it shows teenage girls as their accomplices and victims, harmed, sometimes fatally, in the distance between what they want and what these cruel, heedless wolves have to offer them. The youth of this movie are no angels. They are, instead, the worst of humanity laid bare, meant to scare us and shake us about the future they represent, if they have a future at all.
One word can describe this movie, "mundane". But if I was to give more, I'd have to say this is where Sandler really started to go downhill with his movies. It's not really original, and not funny anymore. It is really a product of the 90s. Contained comedy within its own decade, it failed to get a slight chuckle out of me.
The only thing I liked about this movie is that it had a few good ideas, the brothers were the better part of the movie with their hijinks on Earth and the design of Hell itself. But the special effects and CGI were just awful and too distracting to be woven into the story. For what story this movie had, as it's just another flat "fish out of water/love story".
I got my friend to watch it with me as I thought it would soften the blow from Adam's poor jokes, but sadly it was in vain. We both sat in silence for a majority of the movie until we started to just get out our phones. It is not a movie for everyone, but I can see it being appealing to those who enjoy Adam Sandler's comedy and who want a movie to tune out on if you don't mind the random plot and bad dialogue and poor product placement.
'Every straight girl's fantasy'... until it turns into literally everyone's worst nightmare. This movie is an experience. I watched it because I heard good things about it, saw it go viral on TikTok and needed to know what the fuss was about. I knew before watching what I was getting into but I kind of wish I didn't because the build-up to the opening titles was fantastic. It could pass as a romcom or drama at that point and then it turns into this horrific tale that left me with a very very very bad taste in my mouth.
They went for a less horror and more thriller approach. Leaving much up for interpretation like when Noa gets her ass chopped off. We are not shown the cutting but from what we do see it is all but to clear what is going on. Same with the food. It's food on a plate but the knowledge of it being human flesh is enough to make me gag. Steve is charming, handsome, much like Joe Goldberg from the show You. He draws you in and I can fully understand why Noa would fall for him. He doesn't even lose the charm as he preps dinners or performs 'surgery' on his victims.
The music, the filming, the acting... all great! The story is good too. It's believable which makes it sickening.
Let's go for a round of applause for Noa's bestie. She got the job done. She went all in her friend and got her back safely. Kudo's to Noa too. I'm glad we saw her take action. Play the game. Play it soo good that halfway through I started to wonder if she was into it. Until of course she bit his dick...
I actually recommend this movie to my surprise.
