The whole theatre burst into spontaneous cheers several times, and the whole theatre completely went silent - people literally stopped chewing their popcorn - on numerous occasions.
Like you've probably already heard, the movie REALLY is a phenomenal throwback to the original trilogy, with an extra oomph and insane amounts of creativity and new found inspiration that will take the franchise to a whole new level.
The characters are three-dimensional, it's nowhere near as strictly black and white, good vs. evil like in most of the previous movies, and Adam Driver as Kylo Ren is the best example of that. Hands down, the best villian to appear in the Star Wars franchise other than Darth Vader.
Daisy Ridley & John Boyega are thrilling to watch, the old cast members, popping in during the movie were just as fun to watch.
J.J. Abrams and the writers somehow managed to create a plot that was very confined in space and time, yet they effortlessly captured the grand universe that is Star Wars with some pretty great throwbacks to the old trilogy plot-wise. Some might argue that it's lack of creativity and unnecessary repetition, but I thought it was a wonderful homage. It flowed naturally and there really was no dull moment.
Absolutely phenomenal. :)
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dul boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no plany Makes ack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dul boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play make Jack a Dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All workand no play maks Jack a dull boy
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
All work and no plany Makes ack a dull boy
All work and no play make Jack a Dull boy
This movie is exactly as good as you think it will be.
Remember how you were wondering how they could pull off such an ambitious movie like the Avengers and then they did some how? Well that, but again, and it is still excellent.
(this review gets a little into details, but nothing really spoilery)
When Tony Stark, a man who thinks he is justified to do anything in the name of protection shockingly goes too far and creates Ultron, a murder bot who loves murder. Ultron, who is basically evil Tony, is very quippy. But this being a Whedon flick, everyone seems really quippy (don't worry, it's not as annoying as that sounds).
One of the best things about this movie is the destruction that you see happening in the action scenes. Something about the other Marvel movies never really made the people seem in danger when everything was exploding, but there are people everywhere in these scenes, screaming in horror as the super people punch the murder robots. Many innocent bystanders die in this one. Easy. Some of the other movies just seem too "clean", no sense of danger.
I also really liked the characters in this one. The other Marvel movies always seem like maybe one or two supporting characters from the other movies show up, but this movie has so many people in it. All your favourites!
Also, it had a really great "adventure continues" vibe. This movie starts with Avengers action and ends with Avengers action. There is no more "how they came together" or "this changes the very foundation of the universe". It was an awesome addition to what is now a serial story. More of this and less of origin stories!
So in conclusion, check out this sweet indie Whedon film, you might not have heard of it but it's pretty cool.
For an action/adventure/sci-fi flick, this was great. For a comic book adaptation? Decent. For a chapter in the MCU that, like the other projects, is supposed to connect everything? Average at best, if I'm both critical and 100% truthful. Whedon's culture erasure of the Maximoffs aside—and let's also push aside the in-your-face, out-of-the-blue Bruce and Natasha angle for the sake of a less nitpicky review—Age of Ultron was an... enjoyable film.
The action sequences and CGI were, as to be expected, Marvel-ous. Pun absolutely intended. (What I appreciated most of all about them was the emphasis on saving the civilians.) The banter was fun, despite the film's attempt at comedy feeling a bit stale and forced at times. The overall plot and tone of the movie were not as stellar as I had originally hoped, but they were still decent. Don't let my picking apart of the movie fool you, though; I DID like it. For the most part.
I think my only real problem with the movie is that the experience of watching it can only be described as seeing a canon divergence fanfic come to life on the big screen. I love fanfiction. I do. Just as much, I love the canon divergence spectrum of alternate universes in the world of fanfiction. I just think it doesn't belong on the big screen. Whedon isn't a big fan of Bucky, I'm aware of that much, but it doesn't excuse ignoring a large chunk of what happened in The Winter Soldier.
Oh well, right? Not much to be done about it. And it does pave the way for Civil War, so I suppose that IS a plus, all things considered.
In short: A isn't just for Avengers, it's for average.
What is the line between insanity and brilliance? Is it broad or thin? Does the one bleed into the other? The Aviator, Martin Scorcese's epic look at the life and times of Hoard Hughes, suggests that the two are intertwined, at least in this one man. The film follows him from his first crazy moviemaking schemes in the California desert to his great aviation triumph at a time when his psychoses have started to overwhelm his senses.
It's a "Great Man" biopic, so it hits some the expected beats. There's casual "cameos" by celebrities and notable figures of the time, a "nobody believed in me" set of obstacles, and wild but flawed individual at the center of it, figuring out his path from neophyte to bigwig. But Scorsese has the right touch to bring out the best of the form, balancing the big moments in Hughes's life with quieter scenes to explicate his fears and neuroses.
At the center of it all is Leonardo DiCaprio's crackerjack performance as Hughes. I have to admit, I'm not always a big fan of DiCaprio's performances, which I tend to find technically sound but rarely unique or moving. But here, he is a man on fire, playing the noted eccentric with an almost rabid charm and head full of dreams, but also conveying the man's vulnerabilities, and the way his mental deterioration eats at him as he tries to barrel past it. Short of his turn in Wolf of Wall Street, this is the most I've seen DiCaprio truly inhabit a character, and he gives many different shades and layers to the man in both his grand successes and utter failures.
Fortunately, DiCaprio has an equal to play off of in Cate Blanchett's stunning turn as Katharine Hepburn. Going into the film, I'd heard Blanchett's performance derided as a mere impression, but nothing could be further from the truth. While Blanchett certainly does well to capture the distinctive tone and rhythms of Hepburn, she imbues the character with such life, with a zest for the thrills of the world, a fear that she'll be exposed as a "freak," and a supreme insecurity that her days in the spotlight are over.
Hepburn's patter in the film is reminiscent of the real life actress's exchanges on the screen, but Blacnhett gives new dimension to it with her subtle change of expression when Hughes shows her how to fly, when she warns Howard not to let the press eat him up, and most notably, when she tells him that if he looses his mind, she'll be there to "take the wheel." Theirs is the most multi-faceted and engrossing relationship in the film, and that makes it all the more heartbreaking when it dissolves. Hepburn's nervous, affected laugh when Howard accuses her of always being on is stunning, and Howard's anger, and his bonkers response to burn all his clothes, everything that he'd worn while being with her, is another stepping stone toward his insanity.
The film engages in strong symbolism when it comes to signposting Hughes's growing neurosis. The opening scene features his mother bathing him, quarantining him, instilling in him a fear of sickness and germs and the creepy crawlies he can't see. She washes him with a special bar of soap, and in that cleansing bath, he's surrounded by lights.
As the film goes on, it shows the effect this seminal moment had on him. It dramatizes his germophobia well, depicting him as unable to so much as take one bite of his steak after Errol Flynn steals a pea off of his plate, heightening his perspective as he looks at a what appears to him to be a diseased roast at the Hepburn estate, and most strikingly in the film, refusing to hand a disabled man a wash cloth because it would require him to sully his hands.
That what makes it so powerful in the few times when he overcomes his phobia. The film doesn't have to tell you that Hughes and Hepburn have reached an important level of intimacy, it shows you, by depicting Howard offering Katharine a sip from his milk bottle, and then having a drink of it himself. In the same way, his commitment to his company and well-being are palpable in his meeting with Senator Brewster, who serves him a fish that stares back at him, and a water glass with a smudge, meant to unnerve Hughes, but Howard soldiers on.
The Aviator does well to show these neuroses growing. He slowly but surely feels the need to use his own soap more and more, to where he's washing his own shirt in the sink and waiting in the restroom like a prisoner rather than put his hand on a filthy doorknob to let himself out. He finds himself repeating things, a problem that becomes more pronounced as the film wears on, and culminates at the end of the film. Then there's the flashbulbs of all those press cameras, bringing back the flashes of those spherical lights that surrounded him in that quarantine cleanse, reminding him where he came from and what he's afraid of.
Apart from the brilliant performances and symbolism in the film, it's a complete visual treat as well. Scorsese and his collaborators color-correct the film to a tee, giving it a sepia-tinge that communicates the lost time of the film's setting. But they also give it these beautiful splashes of color, turning the film into toothpaste -- a wash of muted reds and seafoam greens. Scorsese's camera cuts across the joyous tumult of a Hollywood party, or follows a flurry of planes swarming in the air as Hughes fills the sky for his Hell's Angels picture, or shoots his great men, be they protagonist or antagonist, from behind, leaving them imposing but featureless.
The Aviator depicts its protagonist as constantly pushing, constantly thinking and dreaming bigger than those around him can imagine, or at least would advise. It also shows him paying a cost for this, suggesting that there is a price for this kind of thinking that is extracted from one's mental well-being. Even Hughes's final triumph in the film -- his rebuke of Brewster at the Senate hearings, his defeat of the slimy Juan Trippe in his scheme to take out his competitor, and the flight of his Hercules, an embodiment of the scope and audacity of his ideas forged in rubber and steel, are tinged with the unavoidable onslaught of his verbal tic. In Scorsese's film, Howard Hughes is very much the way of the future, but that thought, and all the good that this mentality brings, eventually overtakes him, and tells us that even the titans of old can have feet of clay.
[7.6/10] I don’t come to Deadpool for the plot. The first film featuring the “Merc with a Mouth” was a hilariously outré romp when it was poking fun at conventional superhero flicks and a duller indulgence when it was aping them. The second film dutifully follows in those same, blood-stained footsteps.
There is a story being told in Deadpool 2, one of personal loss, the reconstruction of a fractured family, and shared life experiences bringing disparate individuals together. But these are the vegetables you must eat to enjoy the sugary desserts that the movie otherwise exists to dole out. The film’s narrative is the plain white rice director David Leitch uses to convey his cinematic concoction of flamin’ hot cheetos, atomic wings, and donkey sauce to the audience.
So while the film musters a cute pairing between Deadpool and a well-rounded, picked on young man, and sets Wade Wilson on a quest to figure out the meaning of his ultimate “F-word” -- family, the real fun of Deadpool 2 comes when the film acknowledges (often directly through its fourth-wall breaking antagonist) that this is a stock story, one that fits Wade Wilson well enough, but mainly exists to support the gags and action that are the character’s stock and trade rather than a compelling tale in and of itself.
But the balance of that is much better in Deadpool 2 than in the character’s first film. The movie recaptures the fun, ribald chemistry between Wade and his girlfriend, Vanessa, but still has trouble mining that for pathos rather than humor. Beyond an oddly touching acoustic cover of Aha’s “Take On Me,” it belabors the strained connection between the pair, but thankfully makes it a smaller (if still important) part of the movie.
The same goes for the surrogate dad routine the film has Deadpool play for young Firefist, a budding X-man in an abusive hospital for mutants. There’s a lesson buried in there somewhere about Wade Wilson having a heart, and after a loudly noted rock bottom, bouncing back to empathize and even sacrifice for the kid. But the part of the story devoted to Deadpool reaching his epiphany is mercifully minimal, largely sidelined in favor of the parts where it’s a throughline for the character’s Bugs-Bunny-in-spandex routine.
But what a routine! Given the glut of superhero cinema these days, the genre has been aching for a strong spoof that to poke fun at its excesses and note the silliness of the whole enterprise. That’s where Deadpool 2 shines.
The film has plenty of direct references to the other cape flicks du jour. While fighting a hulking bad guy, Deadpool spouts the same “sun’s real low” line used to subdue a familiar gargantuan green counterpart. When Cable (Josh Brolin, pulling double duty in comic book movies this summer) offers his grim and gritty riposte, Deadpool wonders if he’s from the D.C. Universe. And between references to specific comic book issues, creators who can’t draw feet, and helmets that “smell like Patrick Stewart,” Deadpool is cheerily intertextual in his callouts.
There’s also plenty of fourth-wall breaking fun to be had in a similar vein. Wade Wilson may look directly at the camera to note a “big bowl of foreshadowing.” He’ll poke fun at in-universe rival Wolverine for copying him with an R-rated box office success. He even calls out how odd it is that everytime he ends up at the Xavier School for Mutants, Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead are the only ones around.
Sure, some of this is fairly easy, a mad-libs of references that any casual superhero fan of recent vintage would get mixed in with a few gems for the diehards, but it’s also something no one else is doing on this scale. The fact that we’re getting a superhero spoof on the big screen, set in the X-Men universe, made on a sizeable budget with actors who, as Deadpool himself winkingly notes, have appeared in Avengers: Infinity War and Green Lantern and other caped crusades of varying quality is no small thing.
Deadpool 2 is, more than its predecessor, an episode of Robot Chicken, extended to cinematic length and scale, with the blessing (and more importantly the IP) of the studio and an intertextual bent to match the film’s self-consciously juvenile stylings. That may or may not be your speed, but it’s at least a little remarkable, and offers something no other comic book film on the silver screen has.
That said, the scale works both for and against Deadpool 2. The action scenes are occasionally inventive -- with Deadpool’s bullet-slashing moves that have been spliced into every trailer or his resourceful use of his own broken arm to strangle an opponent -- but many are hacked to bits in the editing room. For every bit of bloody, slow-motion glory that revels in the cartoony, red-splattered violence of the film, there’s three scenes of the same undifferentiated punch-and-kick fest you could find in mid-to-big budget action flick.
The one consistent exception to this is Domino. In addition to having a delightfully blasé attitude and an excellent repartee with Deadpool, this newcomer to the franchise can also boast the best action scenes. Domino’s power is luck, and while Wade Wilson may complain about how contrived and uncinematic that is, that ability forces the directors and animator to come up with creative sequences where the conflagration of fists and metal always breaks her way.
While other fights in the film suffer from the usual pathology of empty CGI, Domino’s skirmishes always have that extra wrinkle to keep things fresh and interesting.
That’s Deadpool 2’s M.O. It doesn't linger on any one thing for too long, moving its story along while tossing in liberal doses of gallows humor (including a hilarious homage to Suicide Squad), reference humor, potty humor, and other odes to pop culture past and various bits of juvenalia. If one strain of humor isn’t your thing, or a scene isn’t immediately working, then stick around, because the next gag is coming in a hurry.
That’s what I’m after when I go to see a Deadpool movie. Lord knows we have no shortage of options, both past and present, for different flavors of superhero flicks. Despite that, the Deadpool franchise is the only one serving up this particular dish, one that’s a mix of outlandish, hemoglobin-filled fisticuffs, omnipresent meta humor, and a decidedly unserious take on a genre that the world is increasingly taking more seriously (as the box office demands). Deadpool 2 is not for everyone, and its efforts at an emotional story or lesson mainly get in the way of its charm, but when the film is working, it’s unlike anything else in the superhero industrial complex, there to make you laugh and recoil and laugh again at the latest group of men in tights to acknowledge, tongue-firmly-in-cheek, how silly their deal is.
