Best lines
I’m waiting for an old friend - Bran
You left me for dead - Hound
I also robbed you - Arya
I’ve always had blue eyes! - Tormund
Whatever they want - Dany
but
It had its moments - Sansa
They need wheelchair ramps in Winterfell. They left Bran in the courtyard overnight!
Parallelism between Season 1 Episode 1 and Season 8 Episode 1
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ S08E01 Jon: "Where's Arya?" Sansa: "Lurking somewhere."Foreshadowing (from different Seasons/Episodes.)
01. S03E05“ “Let’s not go back. Let’s stay here a while longer,” Ygritte tells Jon. “I don’t ever want to leave this cave, Jon Snow.” S08E01 “We could stay a thousand years. No one would find us,” Daenerys says to Jon.02. Sam is suggesting rebelling against the Targaryen because they burned his father and brother alive. Similar to when Robert's Rebellion, began when Rhaegar Targaryen, allegedly abducted Robert's betrothed, Lyanna Stark.
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.
You know how I said the season 5 finale was kind of lame? This was better, but far from totally satisfying. I know a few decades is nothing when you have an eternity to look forward to, but it still sucks that Chloe had to be a single mother. It's not fair to her. I cried so much when Deckerstar were saying goodbye (a really messy, snotty cry). All the little callbacks like Chloe playing that simple melody on the piano were so sweet and Lauren and Tom really did a breathtaking job. But still, it didn't have to be this way. I think it would've been much better if Lucifer had chosen to commute to Hell and still be in Rory's life, and that moment had created an alternate timeline - so that Rory from the original timeline still arrived to fullfil her purpose, but everything from that point on was different. IMO that would've been much better than the time loop idea. When it comes to time travel, you can pretty much get away with any bullshit explanation anyway. Everyone else ended up in a really good place, so at least that was nice. Maze and Eve kicking ass and taking names together, Charlie sprouting wings... I liked all of that. Also they really got Tricia Helfer to come back without giving her any dialogue lmao.
I will miss this show. Even though I feel like it had run its course and there weren't any stories left to tell, I'm still a little sad to see it go. It wasn't a perfect show, but it had some great moments, especially when it rose above the case of the week stuff and focused more on the celestial side of things and the relationships between the characters. It had such an interesting, diverse and lovable bunch of characters who all changed and grew in organic ways. The humor was always top notch, but the show also had some genuine emotion and a lot of heart. All in all, I will remember Lucifer fondly.
EDIT: After giving myself some time to fully digest this season and this final episode, I realized that there is something deeply messed up about a show that has always been about free will - Lucifer choosing to stay on Earth, Amenadiel choosing humanity, Chloe choosing to love Lucifer (remember how big of a deal the "does she only have feelings for me because she's a gift from God?" debacle was?), Maze choosing to develop human emotions and form connections with people, Eve choosing her own path after literally being made for someone else - not giving its leads any choice in the end and forcing them to follow a predetermined path. Again, the alternate timeline idea was right there and it would've reaffirmed the show's message that you make your own fate.
"Call her Nichole."
And just like that, my pathetic bitch ass is back on the June/Serena train. No regrets.
I could write a 1,000-word review of this episode and I still don't think I would cover everything. So, I'll try to list some of the things that absolutely blew my mind:
Aunt Lydia getting wrecked by Emily. Of course it's what she deserved, but it was brutal as fuck. Alexis Bledel's acting was everything. That initial rush of adrenaline followed by absolute terror and panic. So good.
How many more times is Serena going to allow Gilead to crush her before she finally rebels? I think she's near her breaking point. Give me the June/Serena team-up I deserve in season 3, you cowards. The way she gave up the child she'd wanted for so long so Nichole could have a better life was beautiful. Yvonne Strahovski, man.
Emily's getting out! Lawrence, you are officially my favorite man on the show (not that there's a lot of options there). I want to see her find her wife and son. I'm going to cry so much when that happens, I already know it.
So Marthas seem to have some kind of a secret operation going on, huh? That's gonna be interesting to explore.
I knew June would stay in Gilead. She needs to get Hannah out too, she can't just leave her behind. The last 10 minutes of the episode made me very emotional. Some good writing and even better acting in there.
What an excellent season finale. I have to say, I was afraid there would be a decline in quality in season 2 seeing as they were going beyond the events of the book, but that was certainly not the case. I liked this season more than the first one. Now, please give Elisabeth Moss, Yvonne Strahovski and Alexis Bledel (The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit of acting on this show) Emmys and I'll be happy. I absolutely cannot wait for season 3.
First things first: MILLIE BOBBY BROWN IS A FRIGGIN' REVELATION AND SHE DESERVES AN EMMY!
The finale Episode showed once more how good the set-design was. You could see that the Upside Down was full of real props. Also the Byer's house had a real development. I told the story of the whole show in the background. It was like a focal point of the whole plot. Furthermore it showed the strength of the series storytelling: Chief Hoppers backstory was hinted in some previous episodes and one could already think, that his daughter is dead. So the flashback didn't feel forced but natural.
On the other hand the finale showed how bad the CGI was. It begun with the CGI flies in Episode 1 and continued through the whole show. It's sad, that they didn't try to make more with physical props. Like the portal. Did it have to repair it self and therefore needed CGI. I don't think so. It would be fine, even better without.
The last scenes in the Byer's house gave me last one kick in the gut. There are so many unanswered questions: What are those slugs. We saw them in Barb's corpse earlier. Why put Chief Hopper food in that box. It is obviously for Eleven. Where is she? Who and where are One to Ten?
Some thoughts on season 2: Now that the expectations are so high i fear that season 2 will feel worse, even it isn't. This show hit me from nowhere, this advantage will season 2 don't have. Maybe a time jump? (But i want to see the actors again). I really hope the Duffer Brothers will take their time and won't become the Wachowskis (Matrix --> Matrix 2+3).
Conclusion: Stranger Things showed us that you can build on existing themes and tropes and at the same time do something completely new. I think Netflix will learn something from this: Don't just continue an existing IP (Full House, Gilmore Girls). Nostalgia is prevalent in today's pop culture, but that doesn't mean viewers want to see old things with a fresh color. In building on a whole decade of cinema and Zeitgeist, the Duffer could develop new ideas. It's like: We like the 80s but we don't want to retell them. There are still new stories in this period that cinema and TV just hadn't time, money or motivation to tell. For that i am eternality grateful.
Good Night, readers, good night.
Holy Mother of... That cliffhanger! Oh my God! His wings!!! I can't believe it. that ending confused the fuck out of me. So many things happened in the episode. The wings, that desert, and mom's in an alternate universe. Let's Supernatural this, boys!
as much as I want Chloe to know who Lucifer really is, I swear I had the goosebumps when he was talking to her on the phone. he wanted to spill the beans! But then Lucifer gets hit from behind and is driven to a whatever the fuck was that place, gets hit by who knows and his wings appear. mother of all cliffhangers. I need answers so desperately. Oh my God, when he comes back,every single time he takes his shirt of (not that it matters to me wink) his wings are gonna come off. How do you hide it? And who has the power to get his wings back? God, probably. Plus, that someone knocked him out when Chloe wasn't even there so it has to be God, right? Or Michael? Although I always thought Amenadiel was the version of Michael. Maybe he got his wings back because he was a good son and taking care of mom? Not entirely sure why he was just drying in the dessert, though. Lots of unanswered questions.
And that tear in reality looked exactly like the one we saw in Supernatural, just saying. Loved also the possibility of Mom ruling Hell, like wtf.
Even when Lucifer is covered in blister and beaten the hell up, those wings make him even sexier.
Now that I think of it, what if that scene was a flashback of when he first fell from Heaven? Although he landed on a beach and not the dessert.
I loved that Charlotte is still alive. I loved the actress, though I hated mom. But I loved her performance. Dan is a sweetheart and no one will convince me otherwise. And my poor Linda. Ufff, thank God she's ok. I couldn't handle her getting killed off. Maze is absolutely awesome and seeing Amenadiel happy makes me happy. So I guess both the wings and Amenadiel's powers coming back were a gift of God for doing the righteous thing.
This is the Unforgiven of superhero movies, a brutal yet tender portrayal of former heroes growing old. Logan is tired and world weary, waiting for death to take away his pain. Charles is 90, riddled with drugs to mute his mind, his "super weapon." Despite their friendship their relationship is fractured. Into their lives comes a new mutant and a road trip begins.
I don't want to say much more, having given away a little of the premise already explored in the films trailers. This is a tough, violent and sad film with few moments of humour. There is action but not of the blockbuster kind, one key car chase is like something from a 70's thriller.
This is the swan song of Logan and Charles, both actors giving it their all in their final performances as these characters. To bring them back after this film would undermine their work and the story here.
The film is brilliant and I can't recommend it enough - don't expect a traditional X-Men movie and you will be blown away. If the film itself were a mutant I would say its genes had been spliced with Mad Max and Shane, with a little bit of Children of the Corn (and I mean that in a good way). Excelsior!
How this has become a discussion about two very different shows, I can't possibly understand. (Seriously, TRUE BLOOD and THE VAMPIRE DIARIES? It's like comparing HOUSE, MD and GREY'S ANATOMY.)
I started watching this show when I was most definitely a part of the target audience, and despite my initial fear of this show being a TWILIGHT rip-off (despite the fact that the books had been written before, which yes, would make it a "Follow the leader"; mainly because Book!verse differs vastly from TV!verse), its flaws are entirely different.
THE VAMPIRE DIARIES has a protagonist-centered morality, that, when it comes down to it, isn't caused by Elena Gilbert's gentle or loveable personality (of which's existence, by now, only the Salvatores seem to be entirely certain), but the fact that she's got the special kind of boobs. Her magic hooha is infamous among fans of PNR and UF, the hypocrisy of the characters one of the most fandom-intern-critizised points of the entire show.
Despite that, we still watch it, and once you've come to the point where you hate a show with a passion, yet can't wait for the next episode, you do wonder why that is. (Or at least I do.) The heteronormativity, the lack of POCs, the annoying protagonist and love-triangle, the melodrama, the patheticly obvious loop-holes and inconsistencies. Even the beautiful and rather talented actors and actresses (and amazing music (and yes, to be fair, the few very well-written and often well-directed episodes) shouldn't be able to make up for it, right?
But in the end, the show is what the HOUSE OF NIGHT series is in the PNR bookworld. It might suck, it might be immature, sex-negative, and downright awful at times, but it's also compelling. I can't help but react to the insanities that ensue, and even though it probably isn't what the writers and creatores intended, my hatred for certain characters and the misery I feel everytime they mess an magnificent concept up beyond repair, are what keeps me coming back.
In other words, if you are looking for a well-written, sex-positive, 21st century TV-show whose writers you can trust, look somewhere else. If you want a guilty pleasure "Jesus, why do they all look so good, and wth, how is this his voice?"-experience, THE VAMPIRE DIARIES should definitely do. (Then again, shows like LOST GIRL, TEEN WOLF, and BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER are, at this point, easier to recommend with a clean conscience.)
(That isn't to say the show isn't enjoyable. Especially if you are less involved, are able to be entertained by shows despite their influence on particular people, or don't question the characters' and writers' decisions, it should be a show you might come to like.)
Contains major spoilers !!!!!
Huge and utterly dissapointing. After TFA I said this movie would make or break the story. For me it broke.
Where to begin? Let´s start with my biggest problem.
After that rebel cruisers bridge was hit and Leia was thrown into space we saw her drifting in the cold empty vacuum of space. This was a powerful scene and I had tears welling up in my eyes thinking that would be a great ending for the character dying how she always lived. Fighting. I did not realise, or care, that it would have been a huge coincidence had they written this scene at that point not knowing Carrie would pass away. But as I said powerful scene. And then she opens her eyes and floated back into the ship still beeing alive. At that point I was seriously considering leaving the cinema. It´s scifi but, please, without as much as a hint of an explanation that is just awful writing. It is Disney all over it. Anyway I stayed and watched the rest but in general I was done with the movie.
There are tons of other things I didn´t like.
way to much unnessesary and stupid humor. Most of the time it does not fit and just destroys scenes. Holding for General Hux - that might have been OK once but two or three times it just becomes goofy. And there is more of this througout the movie.
the writing was all over the place. So much things going on that do little to nothing for the general plot and just add playtime. Like that whole thing with the codebreaker, going to the casino. Just sugarcoating CGI.
and speaking of playtime - way too long. About five times towards the end I thought it was over. It could have ended when the reached the rebel base- no let´s add another battle. When they realised they where trapped. With Luke going out to face Kylo. At some point I would have been OK with the movie ending with the First Order defeating the rebels, everyone dying, and the franchise done with. But of course that is not happening and the movie ends.....no, just show us a kid with a broom looking at the stars and indicate he could be the hero of a future movie.
in many ways the continuation of storylines is not satisfiying. They introduce Snoke in the first movie without an explanation who he is, where he comes from and how he got there. Would have been OK, could have done later. So now he´s dead without so much as a fight and there are questions left to be answered.
what about Rey ? Are we really to believe her parents were some drunk and drifting scavengers that sold her for money like Ren said ? That would be very stupid because how in the universe could she master the Force in ways even the best Jedis or Sith couldn´t without as much as years of training. Another void in the storytelling.
too many, shall I call them, homage scenes ? A lot of times I felt I had already seen this movie. The scene in the throne room f.e. Snoke = Emperor, Rey = Luke, Ben = Vader, the destruction of the rebel fleet playing in the background and the Ben killing Snoke is like Vader killing the Emperor. I know that was said about TFA as well but I feel it´s much worse here. The Battle of Hoth reviseted would be another thing where they re-did some scenes to a T. All that was left was tow cables.
Those are just some examples of the things I disliked and maybe there could be satisfactory explanation later. There is a lot more but it would take too much time to write it down. But I doubt I will go to the cinema for the next one.
To be fair there where some positives in this movie.
I liked the scenes with Rey and Luke althought they did not really lead anywhere. But some nice insights into Lukes story after ROTJ.
The conversations between Kylo and Rey where very interesting and I thought there was really potential to steer the story to something new and exciting. Not happening.
So overall I was not satisfied. I really like TFA, it built some expectations that where all crushed with this. As far as I am concerned I am done with this new story. I am not not very eager to find out what else the canibalise and how they try to write themselves out of this. There is nothing left.
This is my view of the movie. If you liked it I´m happy for you.
May the Force be with us. Always.
Just got back from seeing the new Tomb Raider. Not bad. Solid action albeit nothing too original going on here. Alicia Vikander was a pretty good Lara Croft, and I actually liked the way she developed in this one from the newbie that constantly gets 'owned' to the badass dual-gun tottin' lady at the end. As for the movie itself, there is fun action, some ancient "riddles", and a little bit of the "supernatural" thrown in. It was basically an update on Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (like almost verbatim with the formula minus Nazis), plus some National Treasure bits thrown in. A tried and true plot line, but not groundbreaking.
While I wasn't the biggest fan of the "bad guy" played by Goggins in terms of his intimidation factor, I thought that they did a real good job on making his motivations quite real and believable. He's not out to destroy the world or conquer everything. He just wants to get this thing over with, find/give the weapon to his evil organization, and go back home to his family. Not bad. You could really feel his desperation in everyone of his scenes. As for the other characters, I didn't really like the incorporation of the twist, but it is what it is. Can't really go into it much more without spoiling things.
I'm not too confident with the way that they setup the sequel/s to come. I didn't really get the whole "the evil Trinity organization is everywhere" vibe that they really wanted to emphasize in the end. Plus, the movies to come will have quite a different feel since we now have a relatively "proven" Lara rather than the girl making all these rookie mistakes and learning from them. Kind of like how Casino Royale was for the Bond reboot, with Quantum of Solace being a big let down. Anyway, solid action and adventuring. Nothing too original here, but some decent character development along the way for this reboot. I give it a good 6/10.
Sorry Angelina, you're in the past now.
Alicia Vikander is phenomenal in this movie, and I appreciate the italian version of the movie for not dubbing her "screams" and "moans" because they are fantastic and add to an already adrenaline pumping movie.
The movie is the same as the first reboot game on the "next" gen, personally I did not play it, but I did play the second one and if they are going to make the next movie the same as the game, it's gonna be even greater!
This cinematic reboot is a rollercoaster. Lara's ability to come out of situation is always a bittersweet taste of disbelief that makes you love it even more. But, in this movie they took a nice step back to her and so we get to see a more inexperienced Lara. Because of this, every failed step doesn't look... "fake" as it did (in my opinion) with the original Jolie movies where she was a badass from starters, feared and known by everyone and still went on about and made stupid mistakes which didn't make sense really.
I gotta say that if you let yourself be immersed, the suspense in some of the scenes is thick and palpable. The line between mythos and reality is thin, but it develops perfectly near the end without resulting boring or monotonous.
Regarding every other aspect of cinematography: I have to say, some of the CGI felt a bit cheap, but usually is surmounted by the amount of action the movie delivers, sound editing and engineering was on point, note that there aren't really big, romatic or thought-provoking photografical shots, but it's to be expected in an action movie.
Alicia Vikander is perfect for the role. I absolutely loved her for the entire runtime and she honestly kept my interest up entirely on her own.
I don't know if Square Enix is to be thanked for the level of quality and "textuality" of who Lara Croft is and what Tomb Raider is about, but I think it's a safe bet and I hope it stays this way.
Please if you have the choice, watch the movie in english, it might sound creepy or weird, but Alicia's screams are fuckin fire in this movie, it gives depth and dignity to the struggle of a character that is supposed to be strong.
7.5/10. Dan Harmon, creator of Community is known for several things -- his trademark bottle of vodka, his tendency to spill his guts to audiences full of strangers, but also his story circle. The story circle is a device that Harmon uses as a blueprint for nearly any story he writes or supervises. It offers a series of steps to telling a story: 1. A character is in a zone of comfort; 2. But they want something; 3. They enter an unfamiliar situation; 4. Adapt to it; 5. Get what they wanted; 6. Pay a heavy price for it; 7. Then return to their familiar situation; 8. Having changed.
Brooklyn is basically Story Circle: The Movie. Eilis may not have the best life in Ireland, but she is comfortable there. But she hopes and wants for a better life than she can expect to have in the Emerald Isle. So she moves to Brooklyn, a situation whose unfamiliarity is hammered home from the first Irish immigrant she meets on the boat, to her fellow boarders who snip at her a bit, but also guide her through her new surroundings. She slowly but surely grows accustomed to her new home, with its different social mores and customs. She eventually has a good job, a future in accounting, a boyfriend, and the good life her sister wanted for her when she helped send Eilis to America. But just as she grows comfortable in that new life, she pays the price not being able to be home for her sister's funeral or to comfort her mother in person. Eventually, she's able to return home, but as the film makes clear in its third act, she is much different person now then when she left it.
That's not meant to be a criticism of the film. That type of adherence to story structure does lead to a film that feels conventional, and in truth Brooklyn is a feel-good story that is as interested in a film experience that feels like slipping into a warm bath as it is in proceeding through its simple-but-sweet coming of age tale. The notes are familiar, but the melody is beautiful, and the audience goes home happy.
At one point, Eilis offers her beau, Tony, an adjective to describe herself -- amenable. And it's the perfect way to describe Brooklyn It's a very amenable film, happy to lean into the soft hues of the past to tell a love story, and immigrant story, and a bildungsroman, in gentle tones that provoke smiles and sighs as Eilis finds happiness, love, and fulfillment despite her initial reservations and homesickness.
If I have a criticism, its that Eilis's journey is almost too successful. For all the accusations of unrealistic perfection leveled at Rey in Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Eilis is a paragon of good fortune throughout Brooklyn. Nearly everyone she meets in Ireland and in Brooklyn short of the prickly Miss Kelly likes her and helps her to feel more comfortable in whatever her current surroundings are. To boot, she becomes successful at nearly whatever she sets her mind to, from working at the department story, to courting, to her burgeoning skills as a bookkeeper.
But that's not to say Eilis does not face challenges in the film. Hers are challenges of conscience rather than the standard plot obstacles we expect our cinematic protagonists to leap over. The crux of the film is Eilis returning to the land that she thought had nothing there for her, and finding that she was wrong, that there is good work, and friendship, and family, and a nice boy with a good future. Suddenly, the life she forged across the pond, the one with her husband, and her studies, and seems distant, something that unexpectedly has to compete with the renewed comforts of home. The choice the film stakes out -- whether to take the stronger, more confident persona Eilis has built back to Ireland and start a life there better than any she hoped to be able to enjoy, or return to the place that made her into that stronger person with the man she pledged her love to.
The problem is that as well as the film sets up that choice, and lays out compelling elements on both sides of the equation, it glosses over the conclusion in a somewhat unsatisfying fashion. While the touch of Miss Kelly's would-be blackmail is nice, it seems abrupt that after all the time the film spends setting up Eilis's hometown as somewhere that Eilis has a place and could be happy, one harsh woman is enough to send her back to New York. There's subtext about an iron fist hiding beneath the velvet glove that's been offered to Eilis since she returned to Enniscorthy, but it's hard to see it anyone besides Miss Kelly, with everyone else in the town seeming a bit pushy and presumptive, but also genuinely enamored with the young Ms. Lacey. Her confession to her mother is a quietly powerful scene, and the breakup letter she gives to her Irish beau feels like too easy way to resolve that relationship, but more than anything, it just feels odd that one mean old crow is all it takes to convince Eilis that she could never have a life in a place that, despite the vows she's tried so hard to put out of her mind, seemed to welcome her with open arms.
Still, the scene where Tony finds Eilis waiting for him and the pair embrace is a sweet moment, even if it doesn't feel totally earned given what motivated Eilis to come to that point. But it's a lovely image in a film full of them. Brooklyn is awash in muted pastels and primary colors, that give the past a gauzy hue that catches the eye and conveys the sense of a sweeter, simpler time. It's also a supremely well-shot film, that shoots Eilis and Jim Farrell at the beach having a conversation with their romantic companions framed in between them in the distance, conveying the subtext of the exchange. It's also a film keen to use subtle touches to show changes in Eilis's mood or perspective, from the simple act of wearing her bathing suit under her clothes that impresses her friends back home, to the letters she shoves in a drawer to signify the way in which she's putting Brooklyn out of her mind. None of these techniques is so subtle that the viewer will miss them, but the film takes the old admonition "show don't tell" to heart, and succeeds well with that principle in mind.
In the end, Brooklyn is a fairly simple story. Girl leaves home. Girl makes a new life with success and romance. Girl returns home, seeing the beauty of what she left behind and has to choose her new life or her old one. But the film's pleasures come from the sweet stillness of the moments in between, of the temping worlds the film creates on either side of Eilis, in the recognizable steps of maturation, of change, that Eilis goes through as she moves past her homesickness, past her reticence, and eventually, past the girl she used to be. Brooklyn is an aggressively amiable film, that breaks little new ground, but covers the familiar territory with such a pleasant, charming air, that it can be forgiven for making few new steps.
This was such an "aca-disappointment"!
If you came back for the laughs, the sassy characters, the anti-stereotypes and the music, be prepared to be completely disappointed.
The plot is a mess: you'd think it will actually have anything to do with Pitch Perfect 1 and 2, but it doesn't. Sure, it could be because the Bellas are now graduated working women going near their 30s, but this isn't the reason. The reason is that this movie has very little to do with singing in general, songs (which are now full covers and not cleverly mixed songs) being just a sad garnishment for a plot that doesn't know where the focus should be. Oh, you think the main thing about the movie is a-capella vs instruments? Nope, it isn't. Oh, wait, could it be that this movie is about the Bellas moving on from their a-capella group? Well, it could have been, if only the entire plot wasn't taken over by Fat Amy's evil dad!
Pitch Perfect 3 is full of moments that show the movie is clearly set in an alternate reality where everyone hates a-capella groups (or at least the Bellas), as they are considered worse than a full-instruments band by default. Also what is the point of introducing like three bands that should compete against each other for DJ Khaled's attention (he is considered a good musician in this alt. universe, I know right?!) if you are not gonna show them actually COMPETING?
I'm not trying to say that the whole Fat Amy revealing herself to be the tough daughter of an evil mastermind wasn't funny! It was, and so was that sort of Taken parody fight between Fat Amy and his dad's goons on the yacht, but it felt too much like I was being sidetracked by the main focus (or at least what have should have been) of the movie: the competition!
Oh, and soooo many wtf moments and weird dialogues...
A franchise ruined forever and totally not worth watching!
[6.1/10] The glory of the original Pirates of the Caribbean movie is that it took itself just seriously enough, without taking itself too seriously. There was enough action and drama for there to be stakes, but also enough humor and levity to make it a fun romp of a film. It left room for more stories, but it also worked as its own thing, with scenes and motivations that built on one another.
Dead Man’s Chest throws all of that out the porthole. Suddenly, the Pirates franchise now has epic lore involving souped up versions of the antagonists from the last movie, with grave implications for every new development. The humor is reduced to the broadest of shtick and takes a backseat to tedious speechifying about destiny and the “true nature” of this or that character. And the movie is a fifteen-car-pileup of plots and callbacks and character beats, stopping not because the film’s reached any kind of natural endpoint or even intermission, but because that’s just where director Gore Verbinski and his team happened to hit the pause button.
About the only good element that survives from Curse of the Black Pearl into Dead Man’s Chest is the production design and effects. Say what you will about the movie’s contrived reasons for sending our heroes dotting across the map, but it at least finds some scenic locales to shoot them in. Likewise, Davy Jones, while showing a bit of age as an effect, is still a marvel of on-screen wizardry, able to move with weight and have distinctive expressions as he interacts with the flesh and blood characters. His ship shares the same realness and creativity of design, a waterlogged battleship that looks appropriately worn by both time and the sea.
And yet, even there, the visuals are hit or miss. While Jones himself is convincing and Bootstrap Bill has a distinctive look, the rest of the crew of the Flying Dutchmen feature unique designs but dodgy looking CGI realizations. The famed kraken is poorly composited into the live action sequences, making our heroes appear as though they’re fighting a big cartoon character rather than a threatening piece of calamari. What’s more, in places like the waterwheel fight or Jack’s own standoff with the kraken, the green screen effects are painfully obvious, breaking immersion.
All of that could be forgivable, especially for 2006, if trifling things like plot and character and motivation were better than “mildly passable.” In contrast to the thrill-heavy clarity of Curse of the Black Pearl, this sequel is convoluted and overstuffed. Nowhere is that more evident than in how many MacGuffins there are in a single two-and-a-half hour film.
There’s Davy Jones’s heart. Then there’s the chest that holds Davy Jones’s heart. Then there’s the key that opens the chest that holds Davy Jones’s heart. Then there’s the drawing of the key that opens the chest that holds Davy Jones heart. And that’s before you get to the jar of dirt that might hide Davy Jones heart, or the compass that might lead you to Davy Jones’s heart, or the letters of mark that you might be able to bargain for Davy Jones’s heart. This film has no shortage of random, mostly uninteresting objects that various characters are after in various combinations, with only clumsy throughlines for how one leads to another.
That extends to the characters’ wants and goals here. Again, in the original film, each major character had a fairly straightforward but nevertheless strong motivation. Dead Man’s Chest, by contrast, makes an utter hash of it. Beyond just the endless quest for the various MacGuffins, who’s trying to rescue whom or sell off somebody to somebody else, or get back into a random third party’s good graces becomes bewildering at some point.
Even for a bloated, two-movie narrative, there’s just too many characters with too many objectives here. Will Turner wants to save Elizabeth Swann again, except he gets sidetracked with a promise to his dad. Former Commodore Norrington is back despite not really having a place in the story, and is gunning for redemption or at least a chit he can use to regain his former stature. Two new villains, and their seconds, and Will’s dad, and Elizabeth’s dad, and the old pirate crew, and the voodoo priestess, and more familiar faces still each have to get their moment in the sun with jumbled up schemes and wishes. Even Jack, the last film’s agent of chaos, is torn between trying to hold off Davy Jones’s claim on his soul and pursuing Elizabeth himself.
Therein lies arguably the worst element of the film. Depp’s Sparrow was an entertaining side dish in the first movie, but here, after so much fanfare and adoration over his performance, he becomes not only the main course, but a romantic lead. Not only does his shtick wear much thinner when it’s the focus rather than one piece among many, but Verbinski and the writers feel compelled to inject a needless love triangle to ensnare Jack, Elizabeth, and Will, despite it adding nothing to the proceedings.
Needless addition is the unofficial theme of Dead Man’s Chest: more plots, more characters, more power plays, and more overextended (and sometimes shockingly racist) action sequences, which lack the prior film’s thrills and panache. Only the big second act set piece manages to channel the energy that drove Curse of the Black Pearl, including enough wry jokes and swashbuckling fun to keep things light yet exciting. That’s a rare moment though, and even it gives way to the film’s “too much, too quickly” pacing problems eventually.
If that weren’t enough, the film is awash in callbacks to the first film, constantly elbowing the audience in the ribs and trying to see if it remembers the franchise’s earlier, better effort. There’s a Star Wars prequel level of embarrassingly on-the-nose references to the prior movie here, and at least there, the franchise went sixteen years between releases, rather than three, before it started eating its own tail.
The real problem is that the original Pirates of the Caribbean was built to be a breezy, exciting lark of a film, not a franchise-starter. So when Disney and Verbinski try to reverse engineer their way into a grand tale with enough mythos and high drama to turn Pirates into some epic quest, the effort looks like so many boats in these movies -- creaky, haphazardly built, and full of holes. Trying to force Jack Sparrow and his cohort into that mold leaves Dead Man’s Chest feeling like just another disappointing, overblown blockbuster, losing the spark and glimmer of the movie that accidentally started this series, like so much sunken treasure.
Probably should have just made it a Disney Plus series. Movies try to fit too many books into one film.
Though, you’re better off just listening to the Richard Roeper review. This movie really isn’t deserving of only 14% good reviews.
It is nice to get a Summer movie at home. Artemis Fowl isn’t as magical as a Harry Potter movie. It is a nice present to enjoy at home. When you can’t go to theaters though.
I can’t say Artemis Fowl is bad or as bad as a movie that has gotten 14% good reviews. There’s more story than a Bayforners film.
If you think about it, what classic Fantasy from the 80’s did critics actually like ? So why listen to people who hated the Labyrinth, Return to Oz, Willow, The Neverending Story....
Artemis isn’t as memorable as any movie I just mentioned. However it has some charm and better than a weaker Disney Fantasy, A Wrinkle in Time.
Performances wise. Josh Gad and
Lara McDonnell are the only ones who stand out. Well, not just because Gad borrowed Hagrid’s look. Lara McDonnell makes a charming fairy.
Ferdia Shaw is the least interesting and he is Artemis. Since I wasn’t sure if he was actually trying or not. He also doesn’t really get much to do.
It's been more than 5 years since I read the book, but I don't remember it being this bad!
The whole movie was so awkward and cringey. The dialogue was weird and stilted, the transitions between scenes were abrupt and made no sense at all, and the overall movie felt like badly written fanfiction (so many things were left unexplained!).
I know the novel wasn't a masterpiece, but this adaptation was absolute garbage. Whoever the screenwriters were, they have no business adapting novels into screenplays. So, so bad.
The actress playing Luce could never have passed for a 17 year old. And both her interactions with Cam and Daniel were so forced and in your face. The scenes where her face was mere inches from one of the guys' faces and they just stared at each other for a full minute without saying anything were so uncomfortable. Like, stop trying so hard to convince us she has chemistry with them. The relationships were overdone to the point that they felt painfully fake and plastic.
Because the screenplay and dialogue were so bad, it made it seem like the actors were terrible. But since I've seen a few of them on other stuff and know for a fact they can, actually, act, I won't criticize that aspect of the movie.
Judging by how bad this movie was, I don't think we'll be getting any more movies from the Fallen saga.
Is American Horror Story: Cult the television equivalent of Marvel’s Secret Wars event? Fan favorites like Evan Peters are turned into unrepentant fascists, characters like Twisty make unexpected and inexplicable returns, and as nakedly as Cult demonstrates its aspirations toward political commentary it remains unclear what the show is trying to convey. The complexities of the issues Cult is trying to take on may result in a season that is as in poor taste as Secret Wars, especially considering their shared ideological murkiness. Because the show seems to take aim at both Sarah Paulson’s left-leaning Ally (the name, as AHS always is, is painfully on the nose) and Evan Peters’s Kai, one might accuse Ryan Murphy of false equivalence. And yet, Ally is unquestionably heroic and Kai is unrepentantly villainous. This distinction is important. On a day when DACA is under threat, representing an existential horror far beyond what AHS is artistically equipped to depict, the perspective that “everyone is worried over nothing, ‘both sides’ need to calm down” is unwelcome. At least as of the first episode, I’m not immediately alienated by some poorly thought out centrism.
While Cult is a high risk (and, perhaps, low reward) proposition, it gets a lot right. I found this episode inspiring fear and dread in excess of other seasons of AHS. It’s not just the political drama, either. Peters is a menace on the screen, chewing scenery, firing off nonsensical diatribes, and committing heinous acts. The sinister nanny is also a powerful fear-generating machine. The powerlessness of Ally and Ivy to intervene on the life of their child and protect him from this intrusion is profoundly unsettling. But beyond on that, it’s slick camera work and memorable costuming that does the job. The monstrous clowns that terrorize Ally and her son and commit suburban murders are as striking as the returning Twisty.
I’m appreciative that the show verified Ally’s encounters with the clowns as “real” as opposed to long-playing the possibility of hallucination. Horror rarely treats mental illness with the nuance it deserves and Cult is no exception. Ally’s condition played up as an isolation based horror is crass, and her treatment by both the narrative and the other characters is unconscionable. The quicker the show decides to pivot away from this hackneyed plot device, the better.
Overall, I’m intrigued by what is on offer with this season of AHS. I don’t expect any groundbreaking political commentary. For some, that might be enough reason to dismiss the show at best or argue it should have never been made at worst. I’m sympathetic to those arguments. But there’s something about the craft of this first episode that has grabbed me. And I appreciate seeing the naked fascism of Kai on screen, rendered as incoherently and unsympathetically as it deserves. But I shudder to think what other viewers might take away from Murphy’s glib and over-the-top depiction of the entire political spectrum. The fact that Kai might affirm or embolden some white supremacist is a horror of which I don’t need to be reminded.
A backup, a hug, a fight and a kiss
El is the cutest BADASS character ever
This episode was amazing and beautiful, if there's more than 10 stars I would give it more
First let's talk about Steve, he's amazing, he's brave and kind.. Did you see how he was genuinely care about these kids and puts himself in danger just to protect them.. I gotta say he became one of my favorite characters in the show
Also lets talk about the kid who plays Will, gosh!! That kid is sooo talented, I was genuinely feeling his pain, he's so amazing and I'm sure he has a bright future ahead of him
The 3 ways attack bit was also amazing, seeing all the characters attack at the same time from different places was gold writing from the show runners.. I liked how the kids took Steve with them while he was unconscious LMAO, and he was like f*** it lets go burn that sh*t.. I still thing that Nancy doesn't deserve Steve, he's too good for her
Anyway, I didn't like that bit with Dustin and his pet, it felt stupid, I mean they're monsters after all so I don't see how that monster can form such feelings for human, anyway he died at the end we saw him next to the chocolate bar
About El, her scene closing that gate was simply EPIC, I loved how she towards the end used both her hands to push the monster back, and by doing that she actually became more powerful, so now we know El with 2 raised hands are unstoppable
Last thing is the Snow Ball party, it was sad and hilarious seeing Dustin get rejected one by one LMAO, but then Nancy saved his a**, then we saw Mike sitting alone and I had a feeling that El gonna show up, and she did!! She was beautiful and cute.. I'm glad that she's finally with Mike and she feels happy
It was a great season but now we have to wait a long time from season 3 :(((
How far can excellent costume design carry a film? A long way, it turns out. Kate Winslet stars as a dressmaker in the 50s, returning to her childhood village in the Australian outback. Secrets from the past are revealed as she uncovers the truth behind a murder she allegedly committed as a child.
Along the way she gets to wear outstanding outfits, as well as make some for the whole town. The high-fashion costumes clash wonderfully with the barren backdrop of the Australian wilderness and the bucolic village sat in the midst of it.
Winslet is good in the role, she manages to nail down the accent without making it the central part of her performance. It’s a well written part, which helps; part fish out of water, part daughter-coming-home, her character always has a sense of mystery yet opens up when it counts.
The story and structure is a mess however. At various moments you wouldn’t be forgiven if you’d thought the film had ended. The tone and even the genre pivot a couple of times, and it can be jarring. It’s particularly frustrating when things start to get boring.
Without going into spoilers, I might also question the order in which certain events unfold; something about the pacing and timing of the major plot points is way off.
It’s a funny film though and the sense of humour chops and changes between warm, gentle moments between characters, physical comedy and black-as-night gags. The drama hits too hard for this to be an out-and-out comedy but The Dressmaker is definitely good for a laugh or two.
This is an odd film. Some very poor decisions were made as to how it was put together, but the great lead performances, outstanding costumes and beautiful direction all make it worth your while. Not a must see, but a solid piece of work nonetheless.
http://benoliver999.com/film/2016/03/05/thedressmaker/
Kind of a strange twist on the, "axolotl tanks," from the, "Dune," series of books. I wonder if it was intentional.
There's a scene where Lucy goes to level twelve. She watches a VCR tape. A pregnant woman is show to be strapped to a metal table in a tank of water. She gives birth to a dozen or so, "Gulpers," which proceed to eat her. In the show, "gulpers," appear to be genetically mutated, "axolotl," which are an amphibious salamander native to the underground waterways of Mexico City. Axolotl's distinctive gills are located outside of their bodies.
In the series of books by Frank Herbert referred to as, "The Dune Trilogy," there is a race of men known as the Bene Tleilax who are famous for their cloning technology. They can create a clone from just a few cells of a cadaver which can later recover their full memory[1], or create, "Face Dancers," among other things. It is eventually discovered they enslave their females, whose wombs are used to grow the clones in. Thus, the name, "axolotl tanks" of Tleilaxu.
I understand in the game "Fallout 3" the "gulpers" with fingers in their mouths are mutated salamanders, but in the T.V. series they appear as axolotls. I am guessing a writer is a fan of Dune and changed the salamanders to axolotls to create a, "literal," axolotl tank. Kind of a creepy homage to just as creepy an element of the Dune trilogy.
[1] In Dune lore the full memories of you and your ancestors are encoded in your DNA at a cellular level. (It's Science Fiction, and just supports the real thrust of the story. Spoilers, it's a story about how you shouldn't trust charismatic leaders.)
[6.8/10] I want to cut The Crown some slack here. If it followed Queen Elizabeth’s life long enough, it was either going to have to recast or start using an array of prosthetics and old age make-ups. Either option comes with significant drawbacks. I love Olivia Colman in everything from Broadchurch to The Favourite. I’m a fan of Helena Bonham Carter’s work with Tim Burton and beyond. I...vaguely remember Tobias Menzies from Game of Thrones. Regardless, the creative team made the right call here.
And yet, it is undeniably jarring to go from the performers who’ve embodied Elizabeth, Philip, and their coterie for twenty episodes and move onto an almost entirely new cast. The production is the same. The sets are the same. The writer is the same. But there is an undeniable disconnect from episode 20 to episode 21.
It’s understandable, and well within the realm of willing suspension of disbelief. “Olding” cheekily makes reference to it with the Queen selecting a new portrait for stamps and currency that acknowledges the change. But it’s also hard to adjust on an emotional level to the fact that we’re only a few months along the timeline, but Claire Foy and Matt Smith are gone, and there's some veritable strangers wearing their clothes and living in their home. It will take some time to acclimate.
The Crown does its best to accommodate us. A surprising return from John Lithgow as a dying Winston Churchill provides connective tissue between one period of the show and the next. Colman’s Queen arrives to give her mentor one closing benediction, and a kiss on the forehead that mirrors the one he gave her upon his last departure. The icon’s death helps seal that we are at the end of one era and the beginning of another.
And, it must be said, Bonham Carter is the perfect casting to take the baton from Vanessa Kirby as Margaret. Beyond the physical resemblance between the two actors, Bonham Carter has made a career out of embodying the same chaotic, rebellious, off-beat energy that ran through Margaret’s veins in her performances as the Queen’s sister. Time will tell the tale, but at the jump, the casting directors nailed that one.
The problem is that, even if you can forgive the necessary but friction-filled transition of the cast, the writing here is below the series’ usual standards. Big picture, there's an interesting theme at play. The Queen is not a neophyte anymore. She listens to her husband, to her high society gossip mongers, and suspects that her new prime minister, Harold Wilson, must be a KGB spy. She’s confident in her political and social instincts after years on the job.
Only now, she discovers via her spymaster, that it is instead the art surveyor in residence at Buckingham Palace whom Elizabeth has been geeking out with, who has been doing dirty work for the Russians. The high society fops she’s been rubbing elbows with having been leading her astray, and the unlikely, comparatively salt of the earth economist she looked upon with skepticism is, unexpectedly, more on her wavelength.
There's something there! The changing of the tides isn’t just symbolized by Churchill’s passing, but by the arrival of the first Labour Party PM the Queen has ever had. Beyond her individual political affiliations, she’s only ever had Tory PMs, and in Winston’s wake, there's a certain comfort to that. Having that discomfort lead you astray, challenging your preconceived notions and forcing you to reevaluate your immediate reactions and maybe your broader prejudices is a good tack to follow with Elizabeth. It sets the season on a good thematic course as season three launches.
Hell, it even ties into the meta elements of the recasting. Baked into the story is the notion of giving new people a chance, even if they’re not what we’re used to, because they might surprise us with how much they’re on our wavelength. If the Queen herself is willing to expand her horizons and find common cause with a comparatively common man, who are we to turn up our noses at some new performers?
The problem is that even if the story is good, the nuts and bolts writing isn’t great. All of the scenes involving the spy mystery seem overblown and melodramatic, rather than elegant and/or naturalistic. This show’s never shied away from high drama before, but whether it’s breaking in a new cast or embarking on a new storytelling cycle, the delivery feels miscalibrated here.
More to the point, the episode’s dialogue is strewn with tortured, blunt metaphors. When Anthony Blunt, the double agent art historian, is giving his big speech before his arrest, he gives an on-the-nose oratory about truth that stings the ears. The Queen’s speech at his art event after the revelation comes down about palimpsests and the like, and double-identities in portraitures leads to painfully obvious coded exchanges with the appropriately-named Blunt expressing her distaste. And her closing exchange with Prime Minister Wilson about how numbers don’t mislead, but rather what-you-see-is-what-you-get, just like the man himself, could hardly be more ham-handed if the PM was wearing bacon-wrapped mittens.
Sure, there's some juice to Philip trying to threaten the turncoat to watch his back, only for the seemingly soft-spoken art dork to turn the threat around and intimate that he’ll expose Philip’s shenanigans with the Russian-entangled osteopath from last season, another piece of connective tissue. But the whole presentation of it feels a step down from the intimate, lived-in vibe The Crown managed to hone over its first two seasons.
With any luck, season 3 will find its sea legs again. Season 2 was already a bit of a step down from season 1, despite some major high points. You can tell that the show has already eclipsed its original premise. Reloading is a way to freshen things up a bit, but also a chance for things to go awry in a whole new way. The Crown has earned the leeway to figure itself out anew, but fresh cast or not, this isn’t the most confident start to the new era.
[7.9/10] I low key hate The Crown’s Philip. He insists on sending his son to a haven of cruelty that Charles is plainly unsuited for. He yells at him for being weak. He threatens his wife with a messy divorce over it all, after having cheated on her multiple times. Sure, he recognizes the bullshit around the monarchy better than most royals, and he’s got more than a few witty bon mots. But in the confines of the show, he’s a bad person.
And yet, through it all, he means well toward his son, and he is a fair bit better father than he ever had. “Paterfamilias” is a tough episode to watch, because you feel for the show’s version of young Charles. As my wife pointed out, he’s of a piece with the subject of Saturday Night Live’s “Wells for Boys” skit: shy, sensitive, and bullied at every turn. Seeing him subjected to such cruelty by one parent, who puts his foot down and threatens to destroy his marriage to prevent the other from putting a stop to it, is gut-wrenching.
But Philip isn't doing this to be cruel. I’m on the same page with him when he tells Charles that their life isn’t the real world, as servants cut his food for him. I understand his concern that sending his son to an uptight boarding school would produce a molly-coddled twit, unprepared for the rigors of the real world. The goal to give his son a crucible that will strengthen him, give him discipline, is not unreasonable, even the results are abominable.
More to the point, you feel for the show’s version of young Philip here as well. He too is a boy who faced difficulties in the way of bullying and separation anxiety. He too was treated harshly by the other boys based on who he was and where he came from. The experience was a miserable one for him too. And in the part we see, maybe the most miserable.
Because however rough Philip’s parenting is, he is Mr. Rogers compared to his own father. In a tragic series of events, young Philip gets into a scrap with another student at Gordonstoun, which prevents him from going home to visit his favorite sister over break due to his punishment. Without Philip coming to visit, the sister chooses to fly to a family wedding instead. And the plane she and her born mid-flight child take crashes, killing all aboard.
The boy blames himself. Rather than seeing this as tragic happenstance, his already wounded heart crumples to ashes. He reasons that if he’d behaved, he could have stopped this butterfly effect from happening. The scenes of this devastated child, suffering nightmares of his closest family member’s dead body, ready to do god knows what in the lake by his school, stopping and crying in the funeral procession, are truly harrowing.
But nothing tops the trauma of his deadbeat father, the one who’s supposed to have the adult wisdom to know this was a horrible coincidence and not the fault of an innocent child, laying the blame at his grieving son’s feet. The Crown’s Philip is a bad man. His father is a monster.
Thank god for Uncle Dickie. In past and present, the man is a saint. He is a release valve for Charles in the here and now, and he gives young Philip the support he needs in the flashback scenes. For someone presented as a conniving operator in season 1, he’s a remarkably kind and empathetic soul in season 2.
But young Philip doesn’t want empathy. He wants absolution. He wants penance. He wants to wring the guilt from his bones. So he finds salvation in his labors, punishing himself by building the wall whose construction was meant to be his sentence for fighting with his bully. In that, he breaks himself down, working himself to the bone, until he cannot help but ask for the assistance from his fellow students and headmaster. It is in that crestfallen moment, that Philip finds the strength, and the camaraderie, to build himself back up.
It is rousing, even inspiring in the moment. But in truth, I don’t love it. I’m amenable to the idea of letting people work through grief in their own ways. But the headmaster, who genuinely seems to care and to want to forge a better world, could do better than allow a traumatized young man to revel in an act of self-flagellation he doesn’t deserve.
Despite it all, the effort works, or at least works well enough, because there is an inner strength in Philip which, however lamentable, these sorrowful events bring to the fore. We see it in the cold shower scene, where Philip’s fellow students hype themselves up for two seconds of a freezing water wash, and Philip stands stoic beneath the spigot, proving his mettle to those who doubt them. He may want nothing but to curl up with his favorite sister, but that resolve is there within him.
It isn't in his son. I know little of the real Charles. But in the presentation of the show, this is a boy who is simply not built for this. He wants to make his father proud, but doesn’t have that same mettle, the same inner strength that simply needs to be summoned by the hard times to make better men. For a well-for-boys kid like him, the rigorous process is a futile one, and thus a cruel one, which results only in the suffering of someone not made for it who will fumble in pain for that which they cannot achieve.
Philip cannot see that. He can only see his own struggles, the way parents inevitably see themselves in their children, without realizing that this meat grinder is not the ladder out of them for Charles that they were for him. His intentions are noble and understandable , but at some point, to knowingly let it continue despite seeing the consequences, verges on abusive.
Uncle Dickie gives the cinch of the piece. He tells a young Philip that he may hate his father now, but that one day he will hopefully know what it’s like to be a heated father and yearn for forgiveness. Who knows, maybe Philip’s dad has his own complicated backstory to explain his actions. But he earns his son’s hatred fairly here. And whatever life raft Gordonstoun gave Philip in his hour of need, it produced a philandering scumbag who seems far less than a role model for anyone (in the show, at least).
But now he knows what it’s like to be on the other end, to hope that you’re doing the right thing and that one day your child will thank you for it, or at least forgive your mistakes born of good intentions. As the closing text tells us, Charles tried to do better for his own kids, but is having his own intergenerational struggles as we speak.
There is no perfect way to do this. Everyone makes mistakes in caring for the next generation. All we can do is strive to do a little better each time. I sympathize with the Philip of The Crown, for his unspeakable traumas and for his desire to give his son the same strength he forged through hardship in the frozen reaches of Scotland. But I sympathize more with a poor helpless boy, made to suffer cruelly and needlessly, as old sins find new purchase once more.
[8.2/10] I’m reminded of two pieces of received wisdom. “The grass is always greener” and “There’s no right way to be a woman.” “Dear Mrs. Kennedy” is an illustration of both ideas at once. Two iconic figures of the twentieth century -- Queen Elizabeth and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, are envious of one another’s lives, which spurs each to try to put down or top the other. But in the throes of the tough expectations placed on each, they recognize one another’s plight and find common cause, as one of the only two people who know what it’s like to be women in this kind of spotlight.
The episode writes it all on the screen a little too much for my tastes. Aside from the final scene, there's no internal thought either woman, or any character really, has that doesn’t get vocalized or beat the audience over the head with. But the performances are spectacular. Claire Foy is superb as always. Conveying Elizabeth’s self-loathing, her attempt at openness, her hurt quality, her triumphant joy, her queen bee preening, and her deep sympathy -- nothing’s too much for Foy. And guest star Jodi Balfour does a great job as Jackie O, giving the sense of her as the picture of glamor in public, but also a wounded dove behind closed doors.
But what I most like here is the trajectory of The QUeen’s feelings toward her erstwhile confidante and rival. The swings back and forth between hating and sympathizing with Jackie, trying to upstage her and trying to comfort her, in ways that feel true to the character and interweave perfectly with historical events.
You sympathize with Elizabeth when she gets a look in the mirror at the wrong angle on a rough day and starts to feel bad about herself. So when a woman comes to London who’s the same age, but who is the talk of the town for her beauty, charisma, and education -- three things that Elizabeth is already insecure about -- you can understand why she’s so put out. It doesn’t help when the Queen Mother and Elizabeth’s own husband fawn over Jackie. And while I think the show goes a little overboard in conveying the sense that Mrs. Kennedy is this adored object of fascination and desire, it soundly sells the idea of why Elizabeth would bristle at this interloper who seems to be everything she’s not.
And yet, if only to keep Jackie away from Philip, the Queen invites her closer, rather than pushing her away. There's a magnanimousness to Elziabeth here, allowing Jackie a certain intimacy despite the fear that this woman is outshining her, and her ignorance of decorum (watching the private secretaries balk at the Kennedys using the wrong protocols and titles was hilarious). They bond over mutual shyness, over being married to strong-willed men, over loving animals. With an olive branch, Elizabeth turns a potential enemy, someone she’s jealous of, into a friend she can relate to. If the episode had stopped there, it would have been good and interesting enough.
Instead, the pendulum swings the other way to devastating effect, when word gets back to the Queen about some harsh things Jakcie said at a local dinner party. (As an aside, I love the fact that Margaret is the one who stirs up trouble with all this, being practically vindictive in her efforts to undercut her sister’s joy.) By all outward appearances, Jackie betrayed the Queen and, as Elizabeth herself later puts it, “the spirit” of their interactions.
Elizabeth invites Jackie into her private spaces within Buckingham palace, the most inaccessible and reserved areas of her home, and Mrs. Kennedy’s purported response is to call it run-down and dilapidated. Elizabeth opens herself up to this stranger, and the report she gets back is of personal insults that cut her to the bone: about her age, about her “incuriousness”, about her responsibility for the declining state of the U.K.’s place in the world. The combination of envy and apparent camaraderie put Jackie in a unique position to wound Elizabeth, and the bombs she lobbed more than do the trick. Foy sells the hell out of the QUeen’s hurt to hear the report.
But Elizabeth doesn’t take it lying down. I’ll admit my ignorance of the big Ghana trip. I thought this was a plot that ended in, if not tragedy, than at least embarrassment. The Queen felt stung by being seen as a “puppet” and wants to upstage Jackie’s ability to smooth things over for the Americans in Paris. So she makes an ill-considered jaunt to an African country that's been sidling up to the Soviets in a bid that all of her advisors, formal and informal counsel against. Ghana President Nkrumah’s self-aggrandizing reception of her only further suggests it’s a grievous error and she’s being used.
Only then, she dances. I’ll admit, in an episode that's fairly blunt, it's hard for me to perceive how a simple foxtrot is able to win over Ghana’s leader back to the Commonwealth’s side. But as with the Kennedys, it’s a hoot to see stuffy British functionaries fret like schoolgirls over their beloved monarch daring to do a box-step. And taken generously, you can read it as the Queen being willing to show respect to another leader, relax and let out some of that personality that Lord Altrincham implored her to demonstrate. Even if it was mostly for show, you can see Elizabeth practically glowing at the gesture’s success, a subtle message to her arrival in Washington that two can play at this game.
Except things are not so wonderful for Jackie, despite Elizabeht’s image of her. That's what I most appreciate about the episode -- the reveal that each woman puts the other on a pedestal to some degree, and that each struggles to see the ways in which they’re both fighting against the same forces. It’s no coincidence that the direction and editing focused on Elizabeth during the Kennedys’ visit to London mirrors the direction and editing focused on Jackie at one of JFK’s speeches. The same subtle looks and worries about a wandering eye, the same fears that she’s being humiliated by her husband’s attention to their women, reveal that however much there's a perceived rivalry, Jaqueline and Elizabeth are in much the same place.
(As an aside, it has to be said -- I’m a big fan of Michael C. Hall from Dexter and Six Feet Under, but he is pretty awful as JFK. His accent sounds atrocious, and his acting style here seems dissonant from the other performers in The Crown.)
Jackie learns from her husband (who gives Philip a run for his money in assholery), that the whole Ghana trip was spurred by Jackie’s comments. Again, the show writes it all on the screen ehr, but I appreciate that knowing ehr comments got back to Elizabeth makes Jacki want to express her contrition.
The differences in presentation between the two women’s first meeting and their second is striking. The tour of Buckingham is reserved, intimate, personal. The latter reception at Windsor Castle is grandiose, formal, showy. One was to invite someone in. The other was to show off the weight of your office. This is Elizabeth not trying to be the bigger person, but instead to be the grander person, feigning an uncaring air about Jackie’s statements, even as everything from the dolled up guards to the formal tea service to the slathering of jam on crumpets screams “I’m confidently better than you.”
Only this time, it’s Jackie who opens up. She talks about her own hardships with Elizabth, intimating the troubles at home and the reason she was so apt to want to shine in Paris. She talks about the jealousy she dealt with from her spouse, with hints of abuse. She speaks of being basically drugged against her will, all giving Elizabeth an insight into the plight of this person whom she’d formerly seen as a mean demigod. And most importantly, for my purposes anyway, Jackie expresses her regret because of how much she admires Elizabeth -- for her grace, for her leadership, for being , in so many ways, all the things that Jackie fears she herself isn’t. There's a subtle implication that on both sides of the equation, these efforts to outshine or put down was a product of each woman looking at the other, and feeling less than.
That is profound and pathos-ridden. As I’ve said before, I see the central mission of The Crown to be to reveal the underlying humanity of these distant figures. And it’s hard to imagine what could do that better than showing that even these exalted, iconic women feel measured by one another, pitted against one another, envious of one another, when each is facing battles public and private that give them common cause and common understanding. It is, like so much on this show, a metonym for broader societal changes and societal pathologies that are still with us today.
The end result of it all is sympathy and a desire to support one another. It doesn’t excuse Philip, but I take Elizabeth’s quip on happiness to indicate that while she still bristles at Philip’s flirty behavior and general unruliness behind the scenes, she recognizes in Jackie that it can be worse. And so when those grim events of 1963 take place, she sees Jackie’s strength and defiance in the famous deliberate choice to wear the same outfit with her husband’s blood on it. She uses the levers of state to pay tribute to her and to her loss. And she writes a personal letter, not as a rival, but as a friend, as one of the few people who can understand what it’s like to feel the pressures of that envied but unenviable position, as an icon, and as a woman.
Therein rests the cinch. With the weight of gendered expectations, both of these admired women feel like they don’t measure up and yearns for the other’s life. But when they get to see it up close, truly understand what it entails, in the end, all they can feel is kinship.
[7.4/10] Everyone sucks here. Some people suck to varying degrees, but everyone’s in a bad way to some degree or another. It’s a weird episode, one that isn't bad by any stretch, but plays in spaces that don’t do as much for me as a viewer.
Let’s go with Tony, since he was prime on my hate train after his debut episode. Let’s list the shittery in (vaguely) ascending order: 1. Saying unkind things to Margaret when he knows she’s in a vulnerable place 2. Allowing for snipes behind her back 3. Marrying her just to earn his mother’s admiration and 4. Cheating on her constantly, to the point that he knocked up one of his friends, and didn’t say a word about it (so far as we know).
In truth, I feel a little bad for Tony. They give him some pathos here, with the revelation that he was the unloved son, left behind by his social climbing mother , with the implication that he was disdained for his father’s actions and for his disability which he hides. The guy is messed up from all of this, and it doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it helps explain it.
Margaret’s in the same boat. She says many an unkind thing to Elizabeth. She wants to have the wedding to end all weddings so she can top her sister. And while she never cheats (so far as we know), she’s essentially only getting married because Peter Twonsend is, and she wants to beat him to the punch out of a sense of revenge
But she’s also hurt,and people who are hurting do stupid things. She’s not wrong to be bitter at her sister, even if her words can be cruel. And the prospect that after everything else, Margaret had to wait six months to announce her engagement because Elizabeth is pregnant struck me as utterly absurd. The Church of England won’t let her marry? Stupid, but whatever, the Queen’s hands are tied. But some issue of “protocol” preventing dueling announcements is just ridiculous.
Suffice it to say, I continue to feel the way I’ve long felt about Margaret on The Crown -- that she’s an overgrown child in how she acts, but also one who has plenty of legitimate grievances and reason to feel sad.
That just leaves Elizabeth, who occupies her usual more ambiguous role here -- does she want to look out for ehr sister or support her, or knock her down as part of the cold war they’ve been having? It’s interesting to see her be outwardly supportive, but also watch Tony’s bohemian friends mock the dignity and tradition of the palace (which, in fairness, is something I’d probably do), and so look to nip this whole thing in the bud. Her hunting for dirt on her sister’s fiance allows her to occupy both spaces.
I’ll admit, I find the implication that the stress of finding out all the cruddy things that Tony has done causes Elizabeth to go into labor a rather odd thing. But the show does the ensuing sequence well, making points about the strangeness of the process to modern eyes without having anyone vocalize it.
I appreciate that, because very little in this episode is subtle. It lays on the bit with Tony’s issues with his mom very thick. It doesn’t hide the ball with Margaret’s motivations for the marriage in the slightest. And Elizabeth’s disgust for the whole thing is made pretty plain as well.
But what I do appreciate is the ambiguity of the closing scene between the two sisters where Elizabeth sidles up to telling Margaret what she knows about Tony, but can't pull the trigger. Some mean words are exchanged. Elizabeth rubs it in that Margaret could have had what she wanted but wasn’t willing to give up the privilege. Something tough but fair, which ties into one of The Crown’s recurring themes -- The Queen wishing she could just be a comparatively normal person and wife and mother rather than having to become The Crown. And Maragert turns the comment around, saying it’s ironic that her sister enunciates a desire to be invisible because e she’s somehow able to pull that off despite wearing the crown, a comment that ties into Margaret’s own need to “shine”, as her mother puts it, and her pride in doing so, that's been a recurring theme for her too.
Despite the harsh mutual insults, Elizabeth doesn't spill the beans on Tony infidelities. I initially took it as a kindness, or at least an act of measured forbearance. Elizabeth already feels blamed for the dissolution of Margaret’s first pseudo fiance. She doesn’t want to be the slain messenger again. And so maybe, she holds back because, even though she could blow up Maragret’s engagement and relationship, she doesn’t want to. She wants to let Margaret live her own life and doesn’t want to be seen as the culprit for another relationship down the tubes.
But my wife suggested a more sinister explanation. Maybe her non-commenting is a “you deserve this”-style fuck you to her sister. Maybe it’s not a kindness, but a means of damning Margaret to this life she’s defiantly choosing, with the knowing expectation that she’ll have to suffer the consequences for her own poor judgment.
It’s fair to read it either way, and in truth, there's probably some of each, which is a sign of solid character writing. This is certainty a strange episode, focused on more melodrama and adults acting like teenagers than The Crown usually indulges in. But there's also no one to quite root for, which is, in a story about the pampered clucking at the slightly-less pampered, usually a good sign.
[7.6/10] To quote an equally regal television program, Agents of Shield, it turns out that the former King Edward is a “big fat friggin’ Nazi.”
Frankly, the episode works better as almost a news program or a recitation of historical events more than a drama. I knew through cultural osmosis that Edward and Wallis had cozied up to the Germans in some form or fashion over the years. I did not know that they fed intel to the Nazis, that Edward wanted to be reinstalled on the throne as a puppet king, that they’d seen concentration camps and continued to sidle up to Hitler and company, and that he encouraged the Germans to keep blitzing his home country to soften them up for “peace.”
Fuck him.
If I haven't made it clear in these write-ups, I think it’s important to separate these historical figures as they appear in a television show that needs tidy stories and drama from their real life equivalents. I’m sure many of the events that The Crown depicts don’t align with reality, but take advantage of poetic license or the usual excesses of adaptation to make things more palatable and interesting. So when I gripe about Philip’s attitude or chuckle at Tommy Lascelles’ stuffiness or the like, I do so as though they’re fictional characters, in full acceptance of my general ignorance about the real folks.
But not with Edward. I’m no historian, but there’s credible information in the public record to support this. And even if the worst isn’t true, enough is damn the man. So fuck him.
Honestly, that's the most compelling part of “Vergangenheit”. This is bombshell information to ignorant Americans like me more than half a century later. The history comes alive from seeing the aghast reaction of the Queen Mother, or the events illustrated with Tommy’s voice over. Reaction shots and camera angles and haunting music help sell the magnitude of the reveal. But by god, the information itself is plenty.
The show does a good job of selling the magnitude of the information through the grammar of television long before we know the details. The Germany flashback is unique enough to catch the audience’s attention. And the urgency with which the details are raced from desk clerk to supervisor to the highest levels of government tell you this is some big deal stuff. Hell, the simple fact that they brought back John Lithgow and Jared Harris to reprise the roles of Churchill and King George is a sign. The way it’s talked about with wide eyes and hushed tones sacross the government really leaves you salivating to learn the facts, however horrid they may be.
But truthfully, the character drama doesn’t do much for me here. On paper, I think there’s something intriguing about Elizabeth being a devoted Christsian who wants to practice Christlike forgiveness and struggles to do so given what she learns. You can see her noble devotion to ideas of grace and second chances, and the comfort she finds in religion as a place where she doesn’t have to be The Crown, but can just be “another humble Christsian.”
I have a couple problems with it though. For one, her catalysts for all of this is Billy Graham, whom I mostly know for his antisemetic comments, and his stances against women’s rights and LGBTQ rights. So him as the humble bastion of piety from North Carolina who moves the heart of the Queen doesn't do much for me, and if anything, makes his counsel seem like snake oil. Now maybe that's the point. Maybe Elizabeth is swayed by this man’s decent words without knowing the dark parts of his heart the same way she was with Edward, but you don’t get many hints of that in the text.
More to the point, the dilemma doesn't resonate with me once we find out what she finds out about Edward. I believe in forgiveness and second chances. And still, maybe I’m simply not as pious as Elizabeth is, but it seems like an ethical slam dunk to basically excommunicate him given his crimes. I completely buy that Elizabeth would wrestle with it given her mentality, but it’s hard to feel that in the same way when I’m mainly just aghast at Edwarad’s sins. Hell, the second most I’ve liked Philip (after his penitent Xmas address from overseas) is him telling his wife that she 100% did the right thing, (and the Queen Mother and Tommy agreed over drinks, no less!)
The show does suggest a little divine retribution for Edward. Just when he’s positioning himself for a return to public life, just when he thinks he’ll be able to live a life of purpose again, this damning revelation spills out and dashes it all. I don't really feel for him, since my sympathy for those who sympathize with Nazis is pretty slim, but you do feel his ennui living a life of opulent dullery, a bored showpony paraded about in vapid social engagements.
That's the one area of the divine angle here that really works. Elizabeth cannot forgive Edward, but pray’s for him to recognize the error of his ways, that they can forgive themselves. And maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I take his sullen look in the mirror to be a literal reflection of that, a recognition that this is a mess he made himself, that if insipid card games, silly costumes, and dull parties are his personal hell, he punched his own ticket with his sins against country and countrymen. That is a sad fate, even if it’s a deserved one.
Anyway, fuck him.
[7.3/10] This is a weird episode. It seems meant as a resolution to the marital difficulty storyline that's been percolating through the opening of this season. The shit finally hits the fan, as the Parkers’ divorce goes public and suddenly the shining good feelings that seemed to wash over both Elizabeth and Philip are overwhelmed by the torrent of rumors and speculation that follows in that wake.
The problem is that The Crown all but gave away the game in the opening of the season. We already saw Elizabeth and Philip sniping at each other in the aftermath of all this as the opening scene of the season. So there’s not much in the way of dramatic tension here. We know that things will explode. We don’t know exactly how, but given what was set up in the prior two episodes, it’s not hard to guess. SO much of this episode feels like playing out the string.
There is some personal investment in seeing Elizabeth react to Philp’s affairs not just being a personal challenge, but now being a public humiliation that she’s forced to deal with and have paraded around in the papers. Once again, since The Queen must be reserved in everything, seeing Claire Foy emote or betray clear hurt, anger, and bewilderment as this state of affairs, while putting on an air of placidity on the surface makes for a masterclass of acting.
Otherwise, though, there’s a lot of shots of people looking pensive on beautiful vistas, or a score of grand drama playing over a tabloid newspaper story. As much as I admire the production design and impeccable cinematography of The Crown, it all starts to feel like a bit much.
I also find Philip’s reaction to Mike Parker kind of odd. The tenor isn’t “Well, we’re both shits and it got out. Sorry, but you have to take the fall on this.” Instead, it’s for him to chastise Mike for writing about it and “breaking the rules.” It’s not crazy behavior from a self-absorbed philanderer like Philip, but I don’t know. Something about the presentation makes it feel like the show’s on his side at least a little, and I have trouble sympathizing with the side of “Shame on you for writing an indiscreet letter that shined a light on our misdeeds.”
That said, strangely enough, I found the non-royal parts of this one much more interesting. I’ll admit my ignorance of modern English political history once more. But purely within the confines of the show, I find the persona of Anthony Eden fascinating. The idea that he wasted his best years in Churchill’s shadow, waiting for the man to retire, and by the time he was too desperate and in too ill-health to make an impact as Prime Minister is its own kind of tragedy.
Elizabeth seems to recognize that. And while the man’s fiery speeches show he’s already doomed, you get the sense that he was played by a conniving operator in Harold MacMillan, which only makes his downfall seem more like a sad end. Despite his flaws and mistakes, he gets a certain absolution from the Queen for his predicament, which makes us apt to sympathize with him too. It doesn’t excuse, you know, an unnecessary war and supply crisis that he had a firm hand in, but it makes him an interesting and pathos-ridden character on a personal level.
ALso outside of the explicitly royal circle, Eileen Parker is kind of my hero. I’ve made no secret of my disdain for prickly Tommy Lascelles. So seeing him try to come out of retirement to lean on ehr to delay making any public announcement of the divorce, only for her to tell him off as a shill and a sucker, is a hell of a hoorah for me as a viewer.
More substantively though, despite sympathizing with Elizabeth, I like the way she kind of tells of The Queen even more. I’ll confess, at one point in this episode, I told my wife that it was hard to take some of this interpersonal conflict as seriously as high drama when there are legitimate national and international crises going on just beyond the Queen’s windows. So there’s something roundly satisfying about the Queen personally asking this (I think?) commoner to delay her announcement as her favor, only to be told that she’s already suffered through years of any unhappy marriage as a “favor” t o the Crown, so as not to disrupt thing during Margaret and Peter’s to-do, and that Elizabeth is ignorant of how many such royal “favors” have wrecked lives and marriages to date.
I kind of love that. The interpersonal issues among the royals are interesting from a television narrative perspective. But I like Eileen’s part of this story as an acknowledgement and rebuke that such drama rests atop real people, who aren't insulated by the same kind of wealth and privilege, who have to live their far more regular lives in the shadow of the monarchy’s needs and pleasures. To have some say “enough is enough” and do what they need to do for their own sanity and well-being in that situation is courageous and low-key inspiring.
All that said, I do feel for Elizabeth in this. It’s not subtle, but I like the scene where she welcomes the new prime minister who laments “Eden’s War”, only for the Queen to balk a little, remind MacMillan that he supported the war, and make the point that one must “clean up their own mess.” She’s clearly dressing down MacMillan when she means to dress down Philip, who’s inconveniently absent. But I like that as a nice bit of psychological projection, showing how the personal bleeds into the political.
That said, I don’t know how I feel about the resolution to all of this. The conversation between Elizabeht and Pihlip in Lisbon is still an excellent bit of acting and dialogue-crafting. But it doesn’t have that much more power now than it did in the season premiere. We already knew that Philip had been having affairs. The firm details don’t matter that much. So while I don’t mind watching it again, it’s not as if the context changes much the second time around.
But what I find particularly odd is that the solution to the problem is...giving Philip the royal title of prince? Okay, I guess? The dialogue tries to dress it up, basically saying that Philip wants a title to command some respect from the palace stagehands who infantilize and micromanage him. But it’s a strange ransom to not cheat on your wife, especially since Philip seemed to already have his “Come to Jesus” moment about the error of his ways in the last episode.
I don’t know how it solves anybody’s problems. Maybe that's the point. Maybe it doesn’t, and we get plenty more of this stuff in the episodes to come. (I wouldn't really look forward to that -- three episodes is plenty.) But considering it’s the climax these three episodes have been building too, the connection between the marital issues the Windsors have been aching and the answer of basically giving Pihlip a promotion seems strained. (Plus hey, I’m sure it’s true-to-life, but it doesn’t help that Philip looks pretty darn silly in his floofy crown and furry cape.)
His closing conversation with Mike is a little more interesting -- an acknowledgement that a certain era is over. And the commentary about Elizabeth’s views of her children as mere appendages of the crown, reminders of her own death and replacement, is intriguing as a possible future tack toward exploring that part of her world -- something that's been mostly kept to the side until now. But the suggestion of more kids as a response to all this also feels like a peculiar connection to make.
Now look, this is history (at least kind of) not fiction. The writers are stuck with the events as they happened. But the way they draw lines between personal or psychological reactions and major public developments lacks a certain narrative catharsis. Framing matters. Juxtaposition matters. The suggestion of cause and effect matters. People are strange creatures. Their choices and reactions don’t always fit neatly into narrative boxes or straightforward plots. But as a three-episode arc at least, The Crown struggles to weave its historical facts into a comprehensible, meaningful, or complete story.
[7.6/10] It’s nice to get an episode focused on Philip’s personal journey. He’s had subplot before, but making him the protagonist for an episode allows the series to dig deeper, explore what’s going through his mind with more conviction. I haven't loved The Crown’s Philip as a person, but I have found him fascinating as a character: a compelling mix of personal shittery but professionally in favor of royal reform, with a good smartass wit to go with it. It’s too much to call him an antihero, but he has enough of a mix of good and bad qualities to make him stand out enough to support the hour.
What I find particularly engrossing about “A Company of Men” is that, by god, the time away really did settle Philip. I don’t know if it’s exactly in the way that either Elizabeth or the Queen Mother intended. But by hook or by crook, he comes back not merely chastened from the experience, but appreciative of what he has and even homesick. I imagine the real life Philp’s transition wasn’t nearly as neat or cinema-ready (if he had such a transition at all). But as a character story, I love the idea of someone going away only to realize the value of what they left behind.
To the point, as another character describes it, Philip and his private secretary, Mike, are on what is basically a “five month stag party.” They pal around with the seamen aboard the royal yacht. They canoodle with the local indigenous population, which is uncomfortable at multiple levels. They smirk through various official functions and make goo goo eyes at reporters and just generally act like frat boy pricks.
It causes trouble at home. And in an episode that puts the spotlight away from Buckingham Palace, it’s nice to see someone only tangentially connected to the Royal Family (at best) get to lead the B-story. Mike’s wife, Eileen Parker, has had enough and is ready to file for divorce, only to find that she needs hard proof of Mike’s infidelity or worse to be able to get one.
I like the choice to show her trials and travails to wrangle what ought to be hers by right on multiple levels. For one, it’s a fascinating case study of the institutional thumb on the scales of marriage in the 1950s. For another, it’s a good vehicle to explore the culture that permitted, if not promoted, this sort of behavior for powerful men and left few avenues for their spouses to do anything about it. For a third, it shows the royal apparatus that sees one woman’s visit to a solicitor work its way through a byzantine collection of amateur tennis players and ladies who lunch back to the Queen’s private secretaries. And it neatly sets in motion the letter that presumably set up the blow-up between Philip and Elizabeth that opened the season despite Philiip’s apparent change of heart at the end of this episode.
That change of heart comes from a reflection on his own childhood and difficult life that's prompted by the reporter who used some long distance flirting to set up a veritable journalistic ambush. I like the show highlighting the fact that Philip’s own father had his mother committed and then abandoned the family to take up with his mistress. The revelation both establishes that Philip didn't exactly have the best role model himself for being a good partner, and it forces him to reflect on how that situation made him feel as a son, in a way he doesn't want to repeat.
So when we see a little bit of nobility from him, using his status to rescue and return a local sailor, it’s cause to reflect. He sees a father welcomed home. We see him look at happy children, basking in joy with their parents. We see him...implied to take advantage of the indigenous’ women’s generosity. So it’s nice that the show doesn't simply pretend that he woke up one morning and completely changed his ways. But the experience gives him a lot to think about.
One of my favorite scenes in the show happens when Philip and Elizabaeth trade Xmas radio addresses. Both of them can’t exactly speak frankly with an audience of millions. But each also expresses their love and longing for one another amid their separation. The fact that they’re unable to connect by phone makes this one of the few opportunities to speak when they know the other will be listening. Philip speaks about his regret and missing his family, understanding what he has, even if it’s not in so many words. And Elizabaeth’s revised opening statement that basically gives him an open invitation, is reservedly and unreservedly sweet, in that characteristically English way. Taken with her note, it reminds him that whatever the flaws of the family he grew up in, he has a new one, and the chance for it to be a better one.
Obviously, there’s still storm clouds on the horizon. But despite the rocky waters to come, it’s nice to see smartmouthed, bristling Philip have a chance to pause, reflect, and reevaluate, and maybe strive to do better than his own father ever did for his family.
Heard of the 80/20 rule? Okay, let's park that til later then...
Julia Roberts was as big a female star as we'd seen back in 1997. That was her decade. From Pretty Woman to Notting Hill, she was the world's sweetheart. She had some stickers along the way but nobody held them against her. She was untouchable.
The best evidence of that is this film. She plays an absolutely atrocious bitch in it - yet... it's deemed fine because it's her.
Every decade has an actress who tries to out-do Katharine Hepburn. The sparkle of Bringing Up Baby is what the editor of this film is looking to capture. Roberts is gorgeous in that girl-next-door-with-a-million-watt-smile way. And Dermot Mulroney provides that handsome but dumb male lead that all good rom-coms cast.
The problem watching 20 years after the fact is that the character Julia Roberts plays is a grade A bitch. First round draft pick bitch. And it's impossible to forgive her for her actions.she spends 80% of the running time being atrocious and the final 20% is spent accepting her actions and allowing redemption - with completely out of character reactions to her terrible deeds. Believability = zero.
The film has some positive points - a crowd pleasing rendition of Say A Little Prayer (one of life's perfect songs). And the standout high point of the movie by a clear margin, Rupert Everett's portrayal. The saving grace of this film without question.
At its release I loved this film for its witty take on a romcom. Watching now is a tough task.
6/10
I'll start off by saying that I did enjoy this movie, and I'm satisfied with the experience it gave me.
Other than that, I'm a little disappointed in the way the story is told.
the first half of the movie is extremely confusing. The pacing is so fast, it felt like watching the trailer of the movie instead of the actual picture. It was such a bizarre experience, I really was wondering why was it going so incredibly fast, it was super hard to keep up and grasp all the info since I didn't actually know Elvis's story at all before this movie.
Also, the scene where he is walking on the street and Doja cat starts playing, no. Just no. It doesn't mix AT ALL with the rest of the movie, it's so out of place in my opinion. Thank God it was pretty much the only moment when they went modern with the music, the rest was kept in line with Elvis style.
So, first half of the movie, really confusing, most of the info felt like it was thrown at my face instead of told and the cinematography felt really intrusive.
Second half of the movie? It got better, because they actually took their time, focusing on less events and giving them their due screen time. Narrating stuff with more calm and detail, the scenes definitely felt more developed and important, the way the first half of the movie should have been told pretty much.
Overall it's a good movie, the story gives a decent look into Elvis.
The actor for Elvis is insane, he looks precisely like him, he acts and moves like him, I've seen videos after the movie and the amount of detail is insane.
It's a worthy experience, but the first half of the movie should really be slowed down A LOT.
Starts very well, the way they handle the death of Boseman is very tastefully done (so many well executed emotional beats) and I like the new conflict that they set up, which is a little more grey and intelligent than the usual blockbuster, like the first movie. The new villain is an interesting character, and I quite liked the creativity that went into the design of his powers and world, but for the love of god, never show me those goofy wing boots again. From the second act onwards, the movie starts to get bogged down by the Marvel machine, i.e. the movie slips out of Coogler’s hands. It’s unfortunately forced to function as a backdoor pilot for Disney + shows and used to drive the corporate machine forward, instead of focussing on the development of its own premise and character arcs. The way it rushes through the arcs of Okoye, Shuri and Namor leaves a lot to be desired. Meanwhile, cutting/writing out Riri, Martin Freeman and Julia Louis Dreyfus would improve the overall cohesion and pacing a lot. What doesn’t help either is that the action and visual effects get increasingly worse and worse as the movie goes on, to the point where we again have an ugly third act on our hands, which includes some of the most hideous looking costumes the MCU has ever put out. Moreover, the soundtrack is kinda bland this time around. It’s not like Kendrick et al. were putting out their best material for the first film, but the music here is just so vanilla and forgettable. Finally, I’m not enitrely sure what the script is trying to communicate on a deeper level, besides being a general statement in favour of diplomacy. If it’s meant to be just that, I don’t think this is anywhere as bold as the first movie. Not that it needs that in order to be good, but it’s another layer stripped away from what made the first movie special. What saves the film ultimately is a lot of its craft: the directing, worldbuilding, acting, score, cinematography, costume and set design (underwater world looked great, much better than Aquaman IMO) are all very well handled and stand out in the blockbuster field. It has those strong foundations in place that make it hard to produce a flat out bad Black Panther film, but man does this movie also show that Marvel is its own worst enemy at this point.
5.5/10
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