Visually stunning, but poorly written, according to Zack Snyder's vision of the film, Sucker Punch it's an "Alice in Wonderland with machine guns", well, this movie it's so bad that apparently seems as if he was written while he was actually in wonderland.
Appears to be a dull and boring videogame with a dumb plot and a terrible cast such as the "browning" Emily "Boring" with her dull girls.
Filled with non-stop action and beautiful women but boring as hell, Sucker Punch is totally nonsense, with an weird first act, followed by a "what the hell ?' second act and concluding with an stupid third act. It has some short positive points such as the soundtrack by Tyler Bates, the awesome videogame look-like visual and beautiful girls and that's it, the rest of the movie is absolutely dispensable, which is a bit of a huge deception for a big studio movie like this.
Zack Snyder is not a bad director, he fills our eyes with beautiful images and the slow motion scenes he puts into are cool but annoying sometimes, but honestly, Snyder should be forbidden to write his original scripts for movies, i still don't understand 85% of the film, maybe because it sucks so much. 4/10
Best Snyder movie so far. Sadly it is deeply misunderstood. Movie is way more deeper and complex than it looks like on first glance.
People don't realize Sweet Pea is the protagonist, Babydoll is a figment of Sweet Pea’s imagination. Babydoll does not exist. Babydoll's story is Sweet Pea’s story. Sweet Pea was sexually abused, killed her sister and is in psychiatric hospital in therapy. Babydoll is Sweet Pea's avatar. Way of dealing with grief, with guilt, and way to manage her current situation and overcome it. Babydoll is also Sweet Pea's guardian angel.
Sweet Pea is the only fully rounded character, other girls represent aspects of her psyche. Babydoll represents strength and courage, Amber loyalty, Blondie fear, and Rocket represents guilt. In the third level reality her psyche fights for the things to get her free from her current state. Second guardian angel (the Wise Man) guides her through. To fully recover she needs to get over her guilt (Rocket dies as a symbol), also other girls represent things which she needs to leave behind to fully recover .
Babydoll is one of those things. She is the fifth thing (“The fifth is a mystery. It is the reason. It is the goal. It will be a deep sacrifice and a perfect victory.”). Lobotomy of Babydoll represents Sweet Pea’s mind of taking control. Sweet Pea needs to sacrifice Babydoll to be “cured”. Escape at the end is a symbol of that process of being cured. That’s why the driver is the Wise Man, he guides her further.
Sucker Punch is Sweet Pea’s journey from “madness” to “sanity”. Movie is philosophical / psychological investigation wrapped in a special effects action-fantasy. As the movie changes realities (mostly in the third reality), Snyder uses more fetishized image of the girls. He uses clichés and cluttered iconography (nazi zombies, sexy schoolgirls). It is a way to detached and disconnected characters from second reality. Second reality, the brothel, is the “main” reality. In which everything happens.
I found this movie to be entertaining and engaging. Kids will enjoy all the adventure and action. Disney did a good job. I did pick up on the environmental undertone of this movie. That through our actions we are heading to our own end. I thought Hugh Laurie had the best end speech near the end of the movie. It was, to me, an honest account of how we are as human beings.
The key phrase in this movie is that our children are our future and that we should never give up or except the path we are on, rather it is up to us to change it to make the world a better place so we may continue to survive and thrive.
I found there to be quite a bit of humor in this film as well and not the kind that went over kids heads to appeal to the grown ups. Granted when I went I didn't see many kids, if any in the theater at the time. That was probably due to the rating of 14+. The word 'hell' is used a few time so I have no doubt it played it's part.
The acting was well done and I would definitely call this a family movie and would recommend this to people.
Kung Fu Panda is an animated DreamWorks film, directed in 2008 by Mark Osborne and John Stevenson. It tells the story of a panda that, while helping his father in the noodle shop, dreams of becoming a martial arts master. When, one day, by chance, it sees himself thrown into the world of the Jade Palace to be educated, it is considered a hopeless case because of its physical form. Fortunately it manages to surprise everybody when the ferocious Tai Lung decides to return to destroy the valley.
The cartoon is a nice tribute to the world of martial arts and a great motivator for the children that can reflect themselves in the main character, Po. In fact, first of all, it is able to pick itself up in a bullying situation and to gain the respect of his “enemies” and, secondly, it shows how if you really want something and work to get it in a merry way, you may realize your dreams. Not to mention the fact that Po is an atypical hero, fat and with food problems – a very common thing in children today, but little shown in movies and on television – who uses his strengths to improve itself. The secondary characters are very nice, especially master Shifu that reminds me of Yoda from Star Wars, and the five cyclones that refer to the five styles of imitative kung fu: Tiger, Snake, Crane, Mantis and Monkey.
Legendary!
G, I love this movie.
Here are 15 lessons I learned from Kung Fu Panda 2
01 Never lose your sense of humor.
02 Nightmares are visualizations of your inner fears.
03 We must do, what we are afraid to do.
04 If your heart is filled with hate, it can never be filled with love.
05 Live in the moment. The here and now is the only thing that matters.
06 If you are angry, it doesn't help to release it on a pole or people next to you.
07 The problems we have, are only (reflections) inside our self.
08 If you want to find inner peace, you need to let go.
09 You are yourself your biggest enemy.
10 When you accept your past & accept who you are - you can access your full potential.
11 Anything is possible (if you are in inner peace).
12 Nobody can tell you who you are, you have to discover it for yourself.
13 Revenge can blow up in your face and your victory will be short lived.
14 Everything happens for a reason - even pain will result in meaning (loss of parents -> dragon warrior).
15 Never give up.
I needed few days to think about my impression about this magical masterpiece! It was for me the best movie in a long time, although Spotlight could enter easily in this ranking. I purely enjoyed this movie on the big screen (which is the best way to watch it) - it made me lough, smile, tiptoeing with the wonderful characters! Sebastian and Mia were easy to identify with, to follow their way through success and failure. Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling deserve all the awards and praise for their acting and vocal skills. They had the best chemistry I ever seen and they should do more movies together. I can say the same about the supporting actors who did too an amazing job.
I must also applaud the amazing directing, writing and operating jobs! The way that I was transported into the world of old-fashion modern musical was pure joy. And the music is phenomenal! The best music since Lion King and Beauty and The Beast (which for me are one of the greatest in the world). Music equaling the works of Hans Zimmer and other masterful composers! I have still City of Stars stuck in my head! Amazing!
The ending makes you think how choices, good or bad, can reflect on your way and destiny in this world! True wisdom!
I hugely recommend to everyone to watch this movie because it's once in while these days that we will have opportunity to watch this kind of magic! That was the cinema in pure content of it!
As a big marvel fan i first was very sceptical about this movie, could it be as good as they promised? My answer is yes and this could be a start of something beautiful. Actionpacked from beginning to end with an outstanding cast and in particular Tom Hiddleston as Loki is unforgettable. Also Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner delivers. All of the origin stories were already made so they didn't need to introduce all of the characters what really helped keeping the movie at rollercoaster speed. Josh whedon really did a good job keeping the story watchable with so much going on but you never get lost in the story. Special effects are one word "wow" especially the Hulk as he unleashes destruction all around him. The epic fight between the Hulk and Thor also unforgettable and without any spoilers the climax of the film in new york city is amazing. By reading reviews on other sites i was stunned how many people gave the movie a bad review because of the bad acting, bad story and all of the cliches it has. People it's loosely based on marvel comics, without the cliches there wouldn't be marvel, yeah there are good guys and bad guys, yeah it lacks emotion but do we want to see that in this kind of movie? And yeah the story is about a villain that wants world domination. Get over it and just enjoy a great superhero movie, and just can't wait to see part 2 age of ultron.
I was recommended by a colleague to watch this show. To put it bluntly I was sceptical - it seemed just like a kids cartoon, and I am in my mid 30s - but I decided to give it a go, mainly because he kept saying "trust me"!
Over the past month I have watched the entire series and must say I was quite impressed. While it definitely is aimed at a younger audience, like all good children's stories it appeals to parents and children alike. If anything, it appeals to adults because it reminds them of what they loved about children's stories as kids.
The first season took a few episodes to get going. It took me a while to get into it and embrace the characters. The early episodes tend to be generally self-contained stories, however towards the end of season 1 the story takes off, and the story become much more serialised. From then on out it is a really enjoyable ride all the way through to the series 3 finale. If anything it gets better from season to season.
The animation is first rate for TV. I have never really watched any anime (or anime-style, in this case) series before so I was definitely going into this green, but I found the quality to be first rate. The characters were also very well written, and the constructed world of element benders was believable within its mythos. I highly recommend this to kids and adults alike. Better still, watch it with your kids.
At the end of the day, they are just telling good stories, and who wouldn't enjoy that?
[9.5/10] If there has been one thing consistent about Aang from the beginning, it’s that he follows his own path. From the minute we met him and he was more interested in riding penguins than showing spiritual reserve, it was clear that this was an Avatar who did not fit the mold. There was a uniqueness to him, a purity, that belied the chosen one bearing he had to carry.
That’s what stands out in Avatar: The Last Airbender’s wide-ranging, epic, moving finale. More than the moral turmoil that Aang had experienced in the last few episodes, more than the massive battle between the forces of good and the comet-fueled Fire Nation, there is a young man, making a choice because it’s what feels right to him, what feels true, and it is that trust in himself, that commitment to being who he is, that sees him through.
What is almost as impressive about the final two episodes of A:tLA, which essentially constitute one massive climax for the whole series, is how they manage to give almost every notable figure in the series something meaningful and dramatic to do. The episode truly earns the epic quality of its final frame, whether it’s focusing on the Order of the White Lotus retaking Ba Sing Se; Sokka, Toph, and Suki trying to sabotage the Fire Nation air fleet; Zuko and Katara confronting Azula; or Aang having his showdown with Ozai. The combination of all these great battle, all these profound and grand moments, make for an endlessly thrilling, dramatic finish for this great series.
The siege of Ba Sing Se mostly serves as a series of fist pumps for the viewer, getting to watch these trained masters face their foes with ease. Like the rest of the episode, it shows off the visual virtuosity as the series pulls out all the stops for its final battle. Jeong Jeong redirects fire with awesome force. Bumi launches tanks like play things with his earthbending. Pakku washes away enemies with a might tidal wave, and Piando slides on the frozen path over the wall, slashing away at Fire Nation soldiers all the while.
And Iroh? Iroh breathes in the power of Sozin’s comet. He creates a fireball that bowls through the walls of the famed city. He burns away the Fire Nation banner that hangs over the palace. It is a sign that for as much as A:tLA is a story of the last generation letting down the next one, there are still members of the old guard there to fight for what’s right and make a stand for a better world.
That world is threatened by the Fire Nation Air Fleet. In truth, the cell-shaded CGI war balloons look a little dodgy. Something about the animation is a little too stilted, to where when the cinematography is cool, the computer-generated elements stick out like sore thumbs and hurt the immersion of the show. Nevertheless, there is something truly frightening about Ozai and company at the head of those ships, imbued with power by the comet, launching these fireballs and streams of flaming destruction down on the land below. It is a terrifying image that brings to mind footage from Vietnam of fire raining from above. As much as the cel-shading looks a little off, the imagery of the elemental powers used in the episode is awesome, in the original sense of the term, provoking terror and astonishment.
Thankfully we have our two favorite badass normal folks and the resident (and as far as we know) only metalbender to help destroy the fleet. It is a nice outing for Sokka, Toph, and Suki, who find a way to not only contribute to the great war effort, but to have moments of risk and drama where you wonder if they will make it out alive or not, featuring big damn hero moments for each of them.
It’s hard to even know where to begin. There is Toph launching the three of them onto the nearest ship, turning into a metal-coated knight, and neutralizing the command crew. There is the hilarious interlude where Sokka manages to lure the rank-and-file crewmen into the bombing bay with the promise of cakes and creams, with the lowly henchman making extremely funny small talk before being dumped in the bay. It’s nice that even in these heightened moments, the show has not forgotten its sense of humor.
But that humor quickly gives way to big risks and bravery from the trio. I appreciate that Sokka’s ingenuity gets one last chance to shine, when he’s inspired by Aang’s “air slice” and repositions the ship he’s piloting to cut through the rest of the fleet, downing as much of it as possible. That move, naturally, leads their vessel to go down itself, and the big escape separates him and Suki.
Still, Sokka and Toph are undeterred, and after some close shaves, Toph uses her metal-bending abilities to change the fin on another airship to send it into its neighbors. Again, it’s nice to see the show, even in this late hour, finding creative uses for its characters’ talents, which give each of them a chance to have a hand in saving the day. That includes Sokka and Toph finding themselves pursued by Fire Nation soldiers, and Sokka getting to use both his boomerang and his “space sword” one last time. And when despite having taken out their pursuers, it still looks like all is lost for the pair, there is Suki, having taken command of another airship, there to save them from their tenuous, dangling position.
It’s a superb series of sequences, one that manages to combine some incredible in-the-air action and combat with character moments that feel true to the people we’ve come to know over the course of the series. Toph still has her smart remarks; Suki still manages to be in the right place at the right time, and Sokka, far from shrinking from the moment as he feared after the invasion, employs the creative solutions to difficult problems that have become his trademark. It is a great tribute and final triumph for all three characters.
But they are not the only trio of Avatar characters who find themselves embroiled in combat on the day Sozin’s comet arrives. But far from the larger-than-life, heroic tones of the battle in the skies, the fight between Azula, Zuko, and Katara has an air of tragedy about it.
What’s impressive is how, so near the end of the series, A:tLA can make the audience feel for Azula, even as she is at her most deranged and dangerous. It is late in the day for a character study, and yet we delve into Azula’s broken psyche in a way that the show has only toyed with before. What’s revealed is scary, but also sad, the pained cries and last gasps of a young woman who never really had a chance, who was brought up by a tyrant like Ozai, rather than a kindly old man like Iroh, and it left her damaged and alone.
It also left her paranoid. One of the defining leitmotifs of Avatar: The Last Airbender is the way that Aang, despite being the chosen one, laden with a solitary destiny, has found strength in his connections to his friends, who sustain him in times of doubt and difficulty. The finale underscores the importance of that by contrasting how Azula alienates everything approaching an ally she has, and it leaves her not only vulnerable, but deeply suspicious, until she loses her grip on her own sanity.
That’s dramatized in the way she banishes a humble servant girl for daring to give her a cherry with a pit in it, in how she banishes the Dai Lee for fear that they will turn on her the way that she got them to turn on Long Feng, in her equally harsh banishment of her twin, elderly caretakers (or at least one of them), when they express concern for her well-being. Though Mai and Tai-Lee have only small roles to play in this episode, the force of their presence is felt in the way that their betrayal of Azula leads her to believe that everyone is a backstabber or turncoat in waiting, and that, poetically enough, becomes the source of her downfall, to where when the threat truly emerges, she has no one there to help and protect her.
And yet, that is not the deepest depth of her loneliness. In a particularly difficult moment, one where Azula has taken out her anger on her own hair, she sees an image of her mother in the mirror. It is a bridge too far, the ultimate pain that Azula has refused to confront, replaced with ambition and intimidation so as not to have to face it. But that vision represents a knowing part of Azula, one that understands how she’s succumbed to fear and paranoia, one that cannot help but feel the hurt of the belief that her own mother thinks she’s a monster, and one that knows despite that, her mother still loves her, something that makes that pain all the more unbearable.
It also makes her less capable, less focused, less ready to face her brother in a duel. Zuko sees the way that his sister is slipping, and is willing to face her alone in the hopes of sparing Katara since he believes he can win. Their fight is a beautiful and tragic one. The combination of Azula’s blue flame and Zuko’s red one echoes the red and blue dragons that reinvigorated Zuko and Aang’s firebending abilities, and which represented the conflicting sides of Zuko’s own psyche. The opposing forces swirl and twist in the field of battle.
But unlike the rest of the episode, this is not played as an epic confrontation. It is played as a moment of great sorrow. While the whirl of the fire blasts rings out and the structures around the siblings singe and crackle, wailing violins play. Azula cackles and cries out, her eyes wide, her smile crooked, her demeanor unhinged. Zuko is not simply conquering an enemy who has tormented him since he was a little boy; he is doing what he must do against someone who has everything, and yet has lost everything, including her mind.
That just makes Azula all the more dangerous, but that ends up making Zuko all the more noble. While Azula is wild and unsteady, Zuko is prepared, baiting his sister into trying to blast him with lightning in the hopes that he may redirect it and end this. Instead, Azula charges up her power and, at the last second, aims it a bystander Katara rather than her brother. The move throws off Zuko, and in the nick of time, he dives in front of the blast and absorbs the electricity to spare Katara. It is the last sign of his transformation, an indication of his willingness to sacrifice himself for one of the people he once attacked himself. It is a selfless gesture, and a desperate one, that shows how Zuko’s transformation is truly complete.
It also leaves Katara fighting a completely mad Azula all by herself. I must admit, I was mildly irked when Zuko cast Katara aside and intended to fight Azula solo, sidelining one of the show’s major figures, but I should have known better than to think the series would avoid giving her one of those vital moments of glory and bravery.
With a dearth of water in the Fire Kingdom capital, and Azula too crazed and unpredictable to fight straight up, Katara must also be creative. Her water blasts turn to steam against Azula’s electric fury. But Katara is as clever as she is talented, and in yet another inventive way to defeat the enemy, she lures Azula over a sewer grate where, just before Azula is able to launch a deadly attack, Katara raises the water and freezes the both of them in place.
Then, in a canny move, she nabs a nearby chain, uses her waterbending abilities to move through the ice, and confines her attacker so that she is incapable of doing any more damage. It is an imaginative way to end the fight, one that show’s Katara’s resourcefulness and gives her a much-deserved win. She heals Zuko, who has truly and fully earned her respect and admiration. Azula has only earned a bitter end – her manic screams devolve into sobs, the loss of so much, the crumbling security of who she was and what she was fading away, until all that is left is a pitiable, broken young woman.
Azula has been a one-note villain at points in the series, one whose evil seemed inborn and whose nature left her without some of the complexity that other figures in the series have possessed. But here, she becomes a tragic figure, one who has committed terrible deeds and who tries to commit more, but whose being raised to obtain power at all costs leaves her unable to enjoy or sustain the only thing she’s ever wanted, and utterly alone.
Aang, on the other hand, is trapped between two things that he wants very badly: to defeat Ozai in order to end this war and save the world, and also to avoid taking a life. Their confrontation lives up to the billing and hype it’s received over the course of the series. The mountainous range provides the perfect backdrop for their fight, with plenty of earth and water for Aang to summon as he combats the series’s big bad at a time when Ozai is infused with the tremendous power of the comet.
The two dart and dash across those jutting rocks, a furious ballet accented with mortal, elemental beauty. Ozai declares that Aang is weak, that he cannot defeat Ozai, particularly at the height of his powers, and despite the realization that this is not the kind of show where the hero fails in the final act, you fear for Aang, for what will be required of him in order to end this. This is, after all, not how this fight was supposed to happen. Aang was supposed to have mastered all four elements, to be Ozai’s equal, not a talented but inexperienced young upstart trying to best the man who has conquered the world.
So in a difficult moment, he retreats into a ball of rock that provides temporary but needed protection from Ozai’s assault. It calls to mind the big ball of ice that Aang retreated to a century ago, a safe haven when the weight of the world became too much for him, and he hid rather than rose to face it. It cements the possibility that Aang is not ready for this, that he was never ready for this, and for all the good intentions he may have, he will pay the ultimate price for that.
Instead, when Ozai penetrates the rock and sends Aang flying, he reaps more than he bargained for. The former Fire Lord’s blast shoots Aang into a nearby rock, and as a sharp point digs into the scar from where Azula nearly killed him at the end of Season 2, it triggers the Avatar state.
Aang emerges from the pile of rubble that the gloating Ozai approaches. Aang glows and speaks with a voice of thunder and fury. Ozai comes at the demigod with all his power but Aang slaps away his flaming blast with the back of his hand. The Avatar assembles the four elements, bringing them to bear against his opponent. He surrounds himself in a bubble of air; he summons earth, fire, and water in rings that surround him. He comes at Ozai with his full force, sending him reeling through rock and rubble, confining him with the land itself. Aang raises this swirl into a knife’s edge, driving it down into his prone opponent.
And then, once more, at the last minute, he stops. The whirl of elements turned into a lethal weapon evaporates into a harmless puddle. Aang stands, unable to do it. Even in the moment where he seems poised to fulfill his destiny, Aang cannot bring himself to snuff out a life in this world. It is against everything he believes in, everything he stands for. Ozai declares that even with all the power in the world, Aang is still weak, that his inability to do what must be done to his enemy renders him lesser.
It is then that Aang finds another way. He confines Ozai using the earth itself once more, rests his hands on Ozai’s persons, and begins to bend the energy itself. What ensues is a spiritual struggle, one that matches the confluence of red and blue that signified the two sides at war within Zuko. For a moment, it appears as though even in this, Ozai will triumph, that the red glowing embers that represent the cruel spirit of this awful man will overtake our hero. It’s rendered in beautiful hues, a burst of light erupting across a dark landscape.
But Aang is not to be overcome. The outpouring of pure blue light emanates from his body. He will not be moved, not be altered, not be changed. Instead, it is Ozai who falters, his ability to bend fire, his tool for committing all of this evil, is taken away from him. The threat is over; the war is done, and Aang has fulfilled his destiny, on his own terms.
There is release, a chance to reflect and take stock and enjoy the glow of having completed this difficult journey. Aang and Zuko speak to one another as Roku and Sozin once did – as friends. (Incidentally, the also confirm that the entire series took place within just a year, which seems kind of crazy.) They embrace, the two young men who were once bitter enemies now trusted allies. Mai and Tai Lee are released and seem to have new destinies themselves. Zuko credits The Avatar to a throng of people at his coronation as Fire Lord, and he is not surrounded by Fire Nation loyalists, but a balanced group of supporters from all nations, there to help rebuild the world. “The Phoenix King” promised to burn down the old world and make a new one from the ashes, and in a way, he has made good on his promise, albeit not in the way he intended.
There is such hope and catharsis in these last scenes. Aang is at peace, his mission complete, freed from the burden that created so much hardship over the past year. Zuko too is in a place of calm, having restored his honor and ascended to the throne, though not as the vicious ruler his father envisioned, but as the kind and noble man his uncle did, one ready to lead his people to a new era. After one hundred years of war and bloodshed, there is the hope that this new generation, one that has tried to cast off the scars and mistakes of the past, can make a new way forward.
We also get one last scene of Team Avatar as we knew them – simply enjoying one another’s company. Iroh plays music, the rest of the gang chats, and Sokka creates an embellished, mostly inaccurate drawing that he defends in his trademark way. This is a family – an unlikely one, filled with individuals collected from across the world from different backgrounds and temperament, but one that, through their shared vision and efforts and care for another, really did manage to save the world.
Aang gazes upon this scene lovingly as he walks out to see the new day and drink in the peace of his surroundings. Katara follows him, and in a wordless scene, with the glow of golden clouds behind them, the two embrace, and then kiss.
It’s the one scene in this finale that I do not care for. As I’ve said before, despite Aang’s crush, the chemistry between him and Katara always felt more friendly, even motherly, than romantic, a childlike crush Aang would need to one day move past than the trappings of true romantic love. It sends the series out on something of a false note, albeit one that the show has teased many times over the course of its run.
Still, it represents the larger idea of the episode – that even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Aang chooses his own path, one true to who he is and what he believes. I’ve expressed my skepticism about his unwillingness to take Ozai’s life, but however foolhardy it may seem at times, it is a reflection of the young man who never seemed like the Avatar he was supposed to be, who instead, forged his own way. That way was often off-beat, confused, and at times, well-meaning but foolish, but it was always a moral one, and more to the point, one that reflected the unique attitudes of the young man who carried them.
He chose to run rather than be sent on his Avatar training. He chose to fight rather than sever his connection to the people he cared about. And he chose to find another way rather than violate his personal, ethical code against killing another human being. In the end, he became his own sort of Avatar, one that did not simply accede to the will of destiny or expectation and tradition but instead made his own way without sacrificing the purity of his spirit or his convictions. There is something admirable, something true in that, and it makes for a satisfying finish to this incredible series.
Avatar: The Last Airbender truly deserves that superlative. Though the series took some time to find its voice, eventually it would flesh out an incredible world, filled with well-developed characters, a deep, generational lore, and a core cast who grew more multi-dimensional and complex as it progressed. The show deserves to take its place among the great stories of chosen ones, the stellar, epic tales that offer hardship and hope, struggle and success, tragedy and triumph. With an attention to detail and character that made those larger-than-life events meaningful, it captures an amazing journey. The series is the story of a collection of young people, amid a war and a struggle they are not quite ready for, renewing the promises that this world can offer and discovering who they are in the process. In that, they returned harmony to the four nations, and to one another, and that’s what makes A:tLA so great.
After seeing several people on SM recommend that it be seen in Spanish if possible, I waited until I could find a theater nearby that was showing it. I am estatic that I saw it in Spanish. It was an amazing treat to see it in the language that the characters would have spoken. The spanish language voice actors are all Mexican, giving the film it's final seal of authenticity that the english language is missing (though this is not a negative critique of the english language cast, but rather an extra treat of the spanish language version).
The film is a heartfelt tribute to the tradition of The Day of the Dead, part of the cultural heritage of Mexico and it's indigenous roots. The film shows the time and care the producers, writers and director took in staying true to and understanding this celebration as observed in Mexico, from the offerings to the dead, the significance of the vibrant marigolds, and the love and gathering with our ancestors and family.
Yes, Coco follows the tradition of all Pixar movies, with a focus on love, family and friendship. The difference this time is that it places Mexico, its culture and its people, at the center of the story.
The Santa Clause "trilogy" soon to be a quadrilogy, is a Christmas tradition to watch as it has become a classic. At least this first movie for some. It is a light-hearted comedy with a good sense of family humour and morals.
But it uses some crappy CGI for some scenes that keep it from being timeless and the fact that most 90s movies humour is usually restricted to those who only understand the time it was set in. Not allowing for full appreciation of the film and its interworkings. Tim Allen's performance is alright, to say the least, he didn't do it for me in the role of the big red jolly figure. But after having seen all the movies over every Christmas. It really is hard to imagine anyone else in the role of Santa. But it seemed he wanted to play the character well and that he did, just not as good as he could have been.
Another transformative story that pulls on your childhood and makes you happy all the time. Nothing really much to say. It's not great, but it has heart and will always be considered a classic to me and many others. Worth a watch if you haven't for some reason seen this well-crafted gift.
If you don't believe in Santa after watching this movie, you're just "denying your inner child."
This is my favourite Christmas film of all time. I used to watch this constantly as a kid (no matter what time of year it was!) and I still watch it every year at Christmas. It never fails to give me goosebumps, because it always takes me back to being a child, and it is an incredible reminder that magic really does exist.
I'm also a big fan of Home Improvements, and Tim Allen is equally as hilarious and entertaining here. Not only is he a brilliant comedian, but he really knows how to play those sentimental scenes that tug at your heart-strings.
Eric Lloyd who plays the young boy Charlie is fantastic throughout and can equally play a multitude of moods in a believable way to make the story flow so well.
When I was little, I always found the role of Neil, played by Judge Reinhold quite irritating, because he is too much of a grown up and his lack of understanding childhood is unreal. But now I've grown up, I understand that most adults are as stupid as his character is and so I've began to sympathise with his point of view, even though I entirely disagree with it. I understand he's MEANT to be irritatingly stupid!
Another character who deserves a special mention is Bernard, one of the Elves, played by David Krumholtz. When I was little, I used to colour in a bit of paper with a dark green felt tip pen and stick it on my forehead, so that I could have "hair" that looked like Bernard's. (I'm not sure it did look QUITE like his hair, but it was worth the effort.) I've always had a soft spot for Bernard. Even though his character can be quite bossy at times, he can also be quite endearing at other times. He has a lot of compassion for people who DO believe in magic, but doesn't have any time for people who don't.... A bit like me! And that's why I identify with him the most. Like the rest of the cast, he plays this part so well.
Both the background music and the soundtrack songs help add to the festive feel of this film, and helps bring Christmas and Santa to life. If you STILL don't believe in Kris Kringle after watching this movie, just remember this dialogue from the film:
Charlie: Have you ever seen a million dollars?
Neil: No.
Charlie: Just because you haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
[9.5/10] “My man!” So much to love in this one. The main story is so much fun, with all the humor the show wrings from the weak details of the simulated world (I love the pop tart driving a toaster bit). The aliens’ inability to deal with nudity, the expectedly great performance from David Cross, and using complicated crowd instructions to overwhelm the computer’s processors are all great elements. Heck, even the “simulation within a simulation” business, and the glee with which Rick and the aliens one-up each other, makes for an inventive and enjoyable adventure.
But my favorite part is Jerry’s story. The fact that Jerry not only doesn’t realize in the low-CPU end of the simulation, but has his most meaningful and fulfilling life experience in it, walks the line between tragedy and comedy so perfectly they should invent a new theater mask for it. The broken processing gags are familiar to anyone who’s played a glitching video game, and Jerry’s obliviousness to everything, and his emotional journey projected onto these blank slates, is just brilliant.
Overall, it’s noteworthy how confident and command R&M was out of the gate here, with a fun sci-fi adventure with an unassumingly dark bit at its core.
So we reach the end of Phase Three, and what an ending this is. Not as epic in scale as Endgame and not as good as it either. But, this to me, is better than Homecoming. Better arcs, a better realisation of character and overall an excellent way to represent story through visuals.
For some Mysterio has been poorly represented in recent media. But here, he is done so well and the abilities are Doctor Strange visuals of good. While still not copying anything we've seen yet. This allows for great tension and using trust against the characters that I don't think has been seen in the MCU since The Winter Soldier.
Tom Halland is Spider-Man. There's no denying it, he was born for this role as Robert Downey Jr was for Iron Man. Which makes this story sink so well into the narrative when it all comes down to loss and how to avoid falling into stress and anxiety's grip. Which makes this an important movie to follow Endgame. Wrapping everything up nicely and even starting some great elements for the future.
So yes, there are end credit scenes in this movie. Two of them. But instead of not caring about a bit of strapped on humour, stay. These scenes are vital for the future of this series of films. Plus, there is an added bonus for those who are fans of the original Sam Raimi trilogy.
So yes, it is a good movie. But there are flaws. For one, there is the whole convenient timing and placement of things. Which I thought they were going to explain but never did. The story does feel like a bit of rehash of Homecoming and how the motives of some are shown, and that was my biggest gripe.
This film is funny, has good action, pretty well-done CGI and amazing performances from all its cast. This movie deserves to follow Endgame and closes Phase Three fluently. Spider-Man: Far From Home is a great movie and has given me hope for the future of Marvel's plan.
8.6/10
[8.5/10] There’s a great deal of call and response between Spider-Man: Far From Home and its predecessor, Spider-Man: Homecoming. The web-slinger’s first MCU movie centered on Peter Parker being relegated to “Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man” when he aspired to be an Avenger. In this one, he’s straining to enjoy a normal life while being pushed and prodded to fill the big shoes of some big names. Once again, Peter tries to live up to the shining example of Iron Man, while facing off against someone who sees Tony Stark as a wretched usurper to be toppled instead of emulated.
And once more, Peter Parker, and by extension Spider-Man, has to come of age, figure out who he is and where he fits into the grand, globe-threatening events that imperil his friends and into the pantheon of heroes defending the Earth against them.
Far From Home anchors itself on the pressure and difficulty of that quest. With the backdrop of an international jaunt, the threat of friendly pretender to the throne, and perils of navigating the post-“blip” high school social scene, Spider-Man feels overwhelmed. He has to try to live up to the legacy of his idol rather than try to earn his notice, to deal with the expectation of being Spider-Man, rather than to get people’s attention as the wall-crawler. The personal struggle grounds both the globe-trotting adventure and the goofy humor that are nicely marbled throughout the film’s runtime.
That’s the most impressive thing about Far From Home -- it is so many films at once, without ever losing the unity of purpose or tonal consistency. It is a superhero movie, with the appropriate number of bad guys, twists, and colorful clashes. It is a travelogue, with Peter and his classmates zipping through a number of picturesque European locales. It is a coming of age story, one that takes advantage of the shadow Tony Stark casts in a cinematic universe built around the character. And it is, assuredly, a comedy, full of the sorts of silly laughs that keep the film feeling light and fun despite its world-threatening stakes and the personal difficulties at its core.
That last part will stick with viewers as long as Peter’s personal journey will. A recent article asked where the blockbuster studio comedies have gone, and you’re looking at it! (Er...reading about it.) Whether it’s Martin Starr stealing the show as Peter’s sad sack, high spirited teacher, the adorably silly teenage romance between Ned and Betty, or the simple physical comedy of Happy Hogan flailing a shield at an attacking drone to predictably weak results, there’s ample chuckles to be had. Beyond the MCU’s usual quippiness, there’s a lighter, more flopsweat-y tone to Peter Parker’s adventures that makes these Spidey films winning outing.
Far From Home also wrings the humor from the awkward interactions between teenagers. Part of what makes the film work so well as both drama and comedy is that its kids feel like kids. While a love triangle between Peter, M.J., and suave newcomer Brad feels a little contrived, for the most part, the movie walks the line between the heightened realism of comic book flicks, and the recognizable pains and absurdities of youth well. The trials and travails of friendship, romance, and expectation are all relatable here, even if outfitted with spandex and explosions.
But those are fun too! Beyond the gorgeous settings in Venice or Prague, the visuals of the film pop. Spider-Man himself has never looked this good in live action, flipping and thwipping through any number of impressive city scapes as the camera follows his balletic rooftop leaps and bounds. In sequences like a perilous ferris wheel ride, the editing team does a nice job of balancing the swirl and swarm of a supernatural threat with the personal stakes of two people in danger for us to latch onto.
And while some of the fully-CGI sequences have that “video game cutscene” feel to them, Far From Home takes advantage of Mysterio’s presence for some visual creativity. Inventive set pieces that send Spider-Man bursting through skyscraper-level “elementals” or rumbling through a nightmare that doubles as a tweaking of his deepest insecurities, see director Jon Watts and company showing off what their version of Spider-Man, and his coterie, are capable of.
What a coterie, though! In addition to the young cast, who are just as sharp and likable as they were in Homecoming, the MCU representative du jour is Nick Fury, who is understandably a little off in this guise, but whose dry wit and gravitas-laden pronouncement fit well with Peter’s anxieties about batting in the big leagues. Jake Gyllenhall does good work as Mysterio, both in his friendly older brother mode, and in his scheming, aggrieved former employee mode. The character has intrigue and, like Vulture before him, legitimate grievances with Tony Stark that add depth to his motivation even as he goes full mustache-twirl at points. The notion of the post-superhero, post-blip world demanding beaming heroes and outlandish backstories in order for anyone to be heard lightly deconstructs both the world of the MCU and the current cinematic moment, with Gyllenhall living up to each.
The most surprising heavy hitter here, however, is Jon Favreau as Happy Hogan, who does some predictable bumbling, and some flirting with Aunt May, but who ultimately gives Peter what he needs to move forward. With a central focus of both protagonist and antagonist claiming and living up to Tony Stark’s legacy, and constant visual reminders of the mark that Iron Man left on the world, Happy tells Peter the most important thing he could here: that Tony was a mess.
There’s a distance between the sterling image our culture crystalizes for its hero and the reality of who they were. There’s a comfort to Peter knowing that the real Tony Stark, the one who lived and faltered apart from pictures painted on murals, doubted himself and screwed up and made as many messes as he solved. Far From Home signposts it a little too neatly with its song cues, but realizing that his idol is flawed and human gives him what he needs to relax and do what he does best for the people he cares about, which makes him more like Tony than he realizes.
The scene also works as a benediction from Jon Favreau, who directed the first Iron Man film, for this next, Stark-less phase of the MCU. His speech, along with a winking opening report, is an acknowledgement that the films that spurred this massive media uber-franchise were not perfect despite their veneration and consternation, and that there’s plenty of worthy ground to cover in the movies to come.
That ground will be covered by a Spider-Man, and hopefully a distinctive crew of other heroes, who better understand their place in this world. Peter Parker leaves Far From Home a different person than when he started. As in Homecoming, he’s once again made peace with the space between where he is and where he thought he wanted to be, even if, as the post-credits scene suggests, there’s plenty more challenges, pressures, and menace to come.
[8.6/10] One hell of a premiere and one hell of a surprise. It delivered what I want from a show like Rick and Morty -- crazy, imaginative, absolutely insane sci-fi experimentation and adventure, with dark introspective emotional and character material to support it. The bits of the sci-fi weirdness, from Inception-like brain journeys to transferred consciousness to battles between disparate forces in space were colorful and mind-bending the whole way through.
But what I really loved about this episode was how it asked (and maybe answered) the question I was left asking at the end of the last episode -- what motivates Rick Sanchez? Is he a hero, as Summer thinks, a demon or crazy god like Morty thinks, or somebody whose motivations are just so opaque and arbitrary that he more or less defies that sort of characterization? The episode seems to give a troubling answer, one that pulls away from the way Rick was softened over the course of S2, but it spends most of the episode teasing you in either direction, making you think he's a hero or on an opportunist or an amoral crackpot or just a complicated guy.
I'm not sure I'm any more clarified on what he wants or what kind of guy he is than I was before (and Morty clearly still has its issues), but I love the way the show leans into that complexity, even amid the crazy science fiction wonderment and disaster taking place all around.
On the whole, this was one thrill of a surprise premiere that sets the stage for the rest of the season, changes enough of the status quo to make things meaningful, and delivers another exploration of what makes Rick tick, and how that affects his grandchildren, without giving any easy answers.
[7.5/10] What do I come to Rick and Morty for? Surprisingly thoughtful emotional material coupled with beaucoup sci-fi weirdness and sci-fi storytelling, and “Rickmancing the Stone” had that in spades.
Most of the episode takes place in a Mad Max-style wasteland, and while that setting already feels a little passe (that’s what you get for going a year and a half between seasons), it makes for a nice launching board for each of the characters to find their own way to deal with Beth and Jerry’s divorce.
My favorite of these is Morty’s. We’ve seen that Morty has deep-seated issues he doesn’t know how to process other than with rage and violence before (most notably in the purge episode) and so a Rick-injected murderous arm with a mind of its own proves to be just what the doctor ordered. It works for character development as whomping people in the “blood dome” helps him deal with his disgust at his dad’s lack of a backbone, but it also works for comedy, with the arm gesticulating and using sign language to try to communicate. Plus the heart-to-heart between them as the arm goes on a roaring rampage of revenge gives a nicely off-kilter texture to the whole thing.
Summer’s was less my favorite, but still good. Her dealing with her current issues with her dad by shacking up with the leader of the post-apocalyptic wasteland tribe (who was, I think, voiced by Joel McHale?) had some juice to it. (Their discussion about his mustache -- particularly the “hat on a hat” bit -- was especially funny.) The fact that Rick messes them up by bringing electricity and the same workaday B.S. of the real world is a fun twist, and Summer hugging her dad and appreciating his “this is all bullshit anyway” mentality is a nice bow to tie on the whole thing.
Rick is his usual amoral but story-driving self. I love his plot to try to create android to fool Beth. There’s something amusing about him trying to retrieve Morty and Summer despite his claims that there’s “infinite versions of them” because to find replacements would be more trouble than its worth. Plus the robots are hilarious, with Robo-Morty’s protestations that he wants to be “alive” and run through a stream being particularly funny in that pitch-black science fiction way that R&M does so well.
On the whole, this was a great episode to kick off the new season (aside from our April Fools Day preview) and to have the characters (and the show) process Beth and Jerry’s divorce rather than just move on like nothing happened.
(As an aside, I assume it’s Rick who’s causing the wind to whisper to Jerry that he’s a loser and having stray dogs chew up his unemployment check? Presumably to prolong this current situation and keep him from developing the stones to go after Beth again? Neat/characteristically horrible if so.)
[9.4/10] Really enjoyed this one. On the one hand, you have a just balls-to-the-walls Rick adventure. Him turning himself into a pickle, and having to climb to the top of the food chain by brain-licking his way to cockroach-based mobility, assembling a rat-based super-torso, and then make it out of the sewer is the kind of sci-fi weirdness I love from this show.
But then, Roiland & Harmon turn it up a notch, with Rick then finding his way inside some combination of Die Hard and Rambo, having to escape a secret and illegal compound run by a generic evil boss aided by a generic badass named “The Jaguar.” It’s the well-observed trope mashup and creativity that this show does well, mixed the inherent silliness that our hero is an ambulatory pickle. To top it off, it had the right details, like the enemy goons having superstitions about a pickle monster, and the Rube Goldberg traps Rick sets to defend itself.
The best part, though, is it’s not just empty violence or insanity for insanity stake. It’s a testament to how far Rick will go to avoid doing something he doesn’t want to do, particularly something he thinks is beneath him, and especially something he thinks might force him to confront the ways in which he’s created problems for his family.
Getting Susan Sarandon to play the counselor is a complete coup, and the writing is perfect, as Dr. Wong quickly teases out exactly what’s wrong with The Smiths’ family dynamic, Beth deflecting the real issue, and the kids being cautious but wanting to identify the problem. It’s the show coming clean about its psychological perspective on its characters, which could be a little too direct, but feels right with the tone of the episode.
After all, Beth idolizes her father and so justifies everything he does despite the fact that, as Dr. Wong points out, he doesn’t reward emotion or vulnerability and emotion and in fact punishes it, making Beth worried to call him to the carpet for anything lest he run away again. And Dr. Wong’s also right about Rick, the way he’s caught between his brilliant mind as a blessing and a curse and incapable of doing the work to be good or get better because it’s just that -- work, which bores him.
But what’s great and also terrible is how that accurate diagnosis doesn’t change anything. Morty and Summer both meekly suggest that the school-mandated session was helpful and they want to do it again, and Rick and Beth completely ignore them, the same way they ignore all their problems and opportunities to make things better, when their status quo is unpleasant but comfortable and more importantly familiar. It’s another episode that shows how well this show knows its characters and their hangups, while inserting fecophilia gags to lighten the tone, and a gonzo set of action sequences that actually manages to dovetail with the deeper, darker message of the episode.
It’s all part of the amazing balancing act that Rick and Morty pulls off on a weekly (or at least biannual) basis, and this installment stands out for its frankness about the problems facing two of its main characters, its creativity in dramatizing them, and the sadness of the rut they allow themselves to be stuck in, dragging poor Morty and Summer down with them. But hey, the Jaguar saves the day in the tag from the Con-Chair-To, so there’s hope yet!
[9.0/10] I don’t know how Rick and Morty keeps doing it, but somehow the show continually finds new ways to combine insane sci-fi weirdness with deep and meaningful character introspection, and I can’t get enough of it.
At the same time the show crafts and adventure where Rick and Jerry turn a visit to a resort and theme park into a snowballing bout of murder attempts and changing alliances, the show also explores both the strain Rick placed on Beth and Jerry’s marriage, and Jerry’s own unassumingly weasely ethos.
The former comes in the form of an inventive resort setting with an “immortality field.” Maybe I’m just not deep enough into sci-fi, but I love the concept as a setting that not only makes for a natural place Rick would take Jerry (at Morty’s behest, naturally) but creates an interesting conundrum for the plotters trying to take out Rick. (Plus it creates one dark as hell joke from two little kids playing together.) The show certainly has its fun with the concepts, and setting a murder attempt there on a roller coaster that dips just outside the field is superb.
The great escape part is fun too. Everything from another alien forest full of crazy creatures, to a cruise line that makes dangerous people dumber rather than preventing them from boarding is inventive as all get out. Plus, the “time-preserver” sequence is the sort of Lynchian madness we haven’t seen much of from the show, but which featured some insanely creative sequences as well.
And in the midst of all this, there’s a great exploration both of who Jerry is, how Rick sees him, and what Rick’s done to his life. The high point of that is Rick’s speech to Jerry that his son-in-law plays it off like he’s prey but that he’s really a predator, attaching himself to people and bringing him down. It makes sense that Rick would see him that way, and it’s revealing of Rick that as much as he pretends his reasons for busting on Jerry are because he gets in the way, there’s a part of him that does it to defend his daughter, whose life he thinks Jerry ruined. Rick caring about things always manifests in weird ways, but that what makes him interesting as a character.
Hell, I like Jerry, and there’s something about a guy whose only crime is being “unremarkable” being treated so shabbily by pretty much everyone that feels wrong. But he’s also not a great guy himself -- a small, petty man as Principal Skinner might say. Still, his indecision about whether to let Rick die, coupled with his feelings about Rick squeezing him out and hurting his marriage, make for very rich, complex material in a pairing we don’t get all that often.
The B-story is not nearly as deep, but pretty darn great too. It has its own spate of weirdness, with Summer trying to make her breasts larger with one of Rick’s transforming rays and ending up gigantic and, thanks to Beth’s assistance, also inside out. That, coupled with the “tech support” guys being three little dudes who live in the machine and trick her into letting them out, makes the science fiction-y and comedy sides of the story spectacular. (The same goes for Beth’s bizarre “hoof collage”)
But there’s also some good character stuff there too. I’m kind of loving the direction the show’s taking Morty this season. He’s showing his own dark side (see how he treats Ethan), and he’s become the character on the show with the most perspective, being able to identify how his mom is acting like her father in her refusal to ask for help and arrogance in her belief that she can just solve the problem without engaging emotionally. Beth turning herself gigantic and inside out to comfort Summer about her body issues is a bizarre but hilarious way to resolve the story to boot.
Overall, another stellar outing from Rick and Morty that makes me lament we only get five more weeks (maybe?) of this awesome show.
[9.0/10] Not since The Sopranos has there been a show on television so devoted to examining the psyches of its characters. I feel like I need to rewatch this episode five times to truly unpack everything there is to glean from such a dense, psychologically complex episode. If there’s been a consistent theme to Season 3, it’s been digging deep into what makes the show’s main characters tick, what makes them who they are, and “Rest and Ricklaxation” both literalizes that (by separating its title characters into their constituent parts) and plays it out in fascinating, emotionally-wrenching detail.
The impetus for that is Rick and Morty going into a psychological toxin-clearing chamber at an intergalactic spa. The catch is that the chamber doesn’t just free you from harmful it elements, it removes those elements, personified as “booger” versions of you, and keeps them trapped in a chamber. So while the real Rick and Morty are feeling happier and more relaxed in the real world, the concentrated toxic parts of them are caught in the chamber working frantically to get out.
The initial results seem predictable, if a little twisted. Toxic Rick is even more hateful and self-aggrandizing than Real Rick. He’s constantly touting his own genius, constantly belittling Morty, and constantly lashing out at the world. Toxic Morty is entirely self-hating and debased, little more than a subservient wart of a person accepting any and all abuse.
What’s interesting is that it seems to flip the good/evil dynamic in Healthy Rick and Healthy Morty. While Healthy Rick feels compelled to rescue their toxic counterparts once he knows of their existence, Healthy Morty likes his own happiness and is constantly resisting any attempt to set things back the way they were under a the guise of not questioning it.
Now splitting protagonists into their good and evil sides is nothing new. (Lord knows the Star Trek franchise returned to that well time and time again.) But the twist, and the thing that makes the episode really stand out from the pack, is that the divergence point for “healthy” Rick and Morty isn’t some arbitrary definition of toxicity, it’s what they themselves view as the toxic parts of their being.
Which leads to all kinds of interesting complications, not the least of which is that Toxic Rick isn’t just some personification of bad, and Healthy Morty isn’t some noble personification of good. It’s a brilliant, fascinating choice to depict Healthy Morty as this honest but heartless, manipulative douchebag. The things that Morty sees as toxic in himself -- his self-doubt and self-loathing -- weigh down an overconfidence and disregard for others’ that, left unchecked, turn him into an uberpopular, successful stock broker, but one who doesn’t really care about anything else or anyone.
It’s a deranged echo of Inside Out’s thesis that negative emotions are vital and valid and help make us stronger individuals. There is something so frighteningly recognizable about Healthy Morty, between his offhand quips about his food being organic to maxims about saying important things face-to-face that reveal a deeper soulless beneath despite all the crowd-pleasing pablum. Toxic Morty isn’t a pretty sight or an encouraging reflection of the real Morty -- he’s deeply unhappy, horribly self-defeating, and outright declares that he wants to die. But the idea that these are the things keeping Morty from becoming a wide-eyed, smiling little monster is one of the boldest and darkest takes this show has offered on one of its main characters.
But that’s only half the impact of the twist. The other, and arguably more foundational reveal in the episode is that Rick really does care about the people in his life, at least Morty, but he views that as toxic, as “irrational attachments” he’d rather overcome. It’s striking in that it answers one of the basic questions the show has been teasing out forever now -- whether despite his protestations to the contrary, Rick loves his family. “Rest Ricklaxation” suggests that he does, but it’s something he hates in himself, which explains how and why he’s always trying to disclaim any such affections.
Rick may acknowledge the other parts of his personality as “toxic.” He admits narcissism, of disregard for the rest of the universe in favor of his own brilliance. But without that, without the parts of him he views as holding him back psychologically, he only has a general care for the world, about the impartial welfare of all, without any personal attachments to his grandson or anything else. The episode digs into who Rick and Morty are, what they hate about themselves, and the people they become without that, which tells you so very much about the show’s title characters.
Meanwhile, amidst all this deep psychological examination is an episode that just works on a nuts and bolts level. The conflict of reconciling toxic and healthy versions of Rick and Morty propels the episode nicely. Seeing a Rick-on-Rick battle throughout the Smiths’ house is thrilling with plenty of creative turns. Healthy Morty’s quiet psychopathy builds and builds keeping a comedic hum the whole time. And there’s even some amusing social commentary as Rick’s toxicity ray covers the globe and Morty’s restaurant acquaintance yells out “sea cucumber!” The main event of “Rest and Ricklaxation” is the show boring into the mental processes and damage of its protagonists, but it keeps the tension and the excitement up for what could otherwise be an overly cerebral exercise.
Like nearly all sitcoms must, it then returns things to the status quo. But while for most shows that’s a return to normalcy and sanity, for Rick and Morty it means returning those two characters to the fraught place where they began the episode. One of the most harrowing scenes in the entire series is the two of them sitting in Rick’s craft in the intro. Morty cries; Rick screams in anguish and admits he wasn’t in control, and the episode doesn’t turn away from the unnerving distress and damage these two individuals have accumulated over the course of their adventures.
This is what the combination of good and bad in Rick and Morty gets them. There’s the sense that both need that balance, to keep them tethered and, in different ways, to keep them caring about people, but the results of that cocktail -- of self-glorification and self-loathing, of brash confidence and debasement, of personal fulfillment and global concern -- doesn’t create a pretty picture for our heroes either.
[9.5/10] At some point, I am going to stop being surprised by Rick and Morty’s brilliance and just expect it, but the show is still at that point where I suspect it’ll be good every week, but it still manages to blow me away each new turn it takes.
I take “The Ricklantis Mixup” to be Season 3’s answer to the improv episodes from the prior two seasons -- a change of pace that allows Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland to play around in their amazing sandbox of a universe for a bit without feeling the need to develop or advance their main character. In that, they give us an episode that doesn’t have Rick or Morty or any of the other main characters, and yet has all the Ricks and Morties, in glorious, The Wire-esque splendor.
And The Wire really has to be the touchstone for an episode like this. Where else are you going to find something that addresses the challenges of cops and criminals, the rise of an charismatic and unexpected leader, the frustrations of blue collar working who feels like the system is holding him down, and the difficulties of four schoolchildren to make their way in that world. Hell, throw in a Hamsterdam, and you have all five seasons of that superlative show, filtered through Harman and Roiland’s dueling deranged perspectives and deposited into one twenty-two minute chunk. That’s an amazing achievement, the sort of praise I feel like I’m throwing out all too often for this show, but it keeps earning it.
The episode can roughly be broken up into those four stories, but what makes the episode more than just the sum of its parts (and what earns its Wire comparisons) is how interconnected those stories are, both literally, since they’re connected by the Citadel are all affected by the ecosystem that’s developed after our Rick destroyed the place, but also thematically, in the way each protagonist of each story looks at a bad situation and wants change, and gets it, but gets something unsatisfying or unpleasant or worse than they bargained for out of the process, with plenty of dead bodies floating among the garbage and blasted out the airlock.
That’s clearest for Candidate Morty, trying to win the presidency of The Citadel on behalf of The Morty Party. There’s something aspirational, almost West Wing-esque about Candidate Morty, as he gives soaring, Obama-esque speeches about dissolving the lines of division between Ricks and Morties and make The Citadel something better for all. That makes it seem particularly terrible when his former campaign manager, another Morty, tries to assassinate him. The move turns out to be all for naught since Candidate Morty survives and becomes President, in something that seems like a chance to turn around this mixed up place.
Instead, it’s revealed that Candidate Morty is the evil, eye patch-wearing Morty we met back in Season 1. It’s the perfect, knife-turning twist for the episode -- a reveal that the Carcetti-esque beacon of hope for a city in turmoil is a guy running on unifying rhetoric to pursue his own Carcetti-esque ambitions (well, maybe a touch more intergalactically evil than Carcetti’s). All of that hope, all of the communal joining together and believing that things can change just puts a tyrant into power, and holy hell is that one of the darkest things an already dark show has put forward.
Then there’s Factory Worker Rick, who seems older and more haried even by Rick standards, gazing out of subway cars, seeing wealthier and cooler Ricks succeed ahead of him, and sighing. He works at a factory that makes wafers out of the satisfaction an old fashioned “Simple Rick” enjoys when reliving the experience of spending time with his daughter (a subtly revealing bit in and of itself).
Things hit the fan when he goes postal, killing his boss and co-workers, and getting into a hostage standoff with the police. There too, the show capture a certain backbreaking ennui to this place, that even (and maybe especially) a locale populated by geniuses leads to this sort of dissatisfaction, disaffection, and anomie. And this story has just as cynical an ending, with Factory Worker Rick believing he’s won, only for the Wonka-esque Rick who runs the factory to capture him and use that feeling of freedom and satisfaction to fuel his new deluxe wafers. I mean, my god, if that is not the peak of devastating, existential irony on this show, I don’t know what is.
There’s also Rookie Cop Rick, who’s paired with Grizzled Cop Morty. More than the other stories, this one feels like it’s riffing on a sea of tropes ripped right out of the Training Day playbook. There’s plenty of political and social commentary baked in through how even Grizzled Cop Morty looks down on his fellow Morties as “animals” or how Rookie Cop Rick tries to give himself up to his brethren for the difficult choices he’s made and gets let off the hook. But it has less impact since it feels like more of those tropes played straight (or at least, as straight as can be possible given the insane circumstances) than something truly new and subversive.
Still, this is the part of the episode where the show gains strength from the crazy details of the world it’s constructed at The Citadel. The entire concept of a wild Morty club where Morty’s dress up in costumes, dance for one another, and use bad math, or of a series of news anchors from the same hierarchy of subuniverses, each of whom has it worst than the next, or just the concept of Morties who’ve been turned into lizards and Ricks adopting rural affections is bizarre and hilarious and head-scratching in the best ways.
That comes through in the episode’s final story, which sees a quartet of young Morties, soon to be assigned to a new quartet of Ricks, go out in search of a fabled “wish portal” that could change their lives. The sorriest among them is Cool Morty, who has an experimental drama chip that allows him to make things “sad and a little boring,” and who’s been through Rick after Rick. Here too, there is that sense of existential dread, of things never changing, the permeates the proceedings. Cool Morty’s suicide is unexpected and lives up to the sadness his experimental chip portends, but it’s made worse that the supposed change his dive into this sci-fi wishing well effected is the hollow one President Morty offered.
That’s the rub of this one. Even in this fantastical world of brilliant scientists and their boy sidekicks, there is a kaleidoscope of pain and false promises that stretch through everything. All the geniuses, all the good-natured moppets in the world can’t change that when thrown together into their own dysfunctional society. That Rick and Morty has the chutzpah to explore that society for an episode, and to deliver that message, just speaks to the boldness and off-kilter storytelling we’ve come to expect, and to make it all as funny as it is quietly devastating, is a near-miracle. Rick and Morty keeps delivering them on a regular basis.
[7.6/10] Well, I guess I was wrong about last week’s episode replacing the improv-based interdimensional cable eps we’ve gotten previously. But I enjoy this entree full of bite-sized adventures for our heroes. It’s a throwback to Harmon’s “clip show but with new clips” bit from Community and fun to see the mini-stories thrown out rapid fire.
I particularly liked the opening pair of stories. Morty mistaking his new guidance counselor for a scary moon man is the sort of Bailey School Kids schtick with a Rick and Morty twist that really tickled my fancy. By the same token, turning the usual “humans trapped in an alien zoo” routine into a Contact-based hoodwinking is entertaining.
But I also really enjoyed the fact that Rick didn’t just zap away the memories of things that were too heavy for Morty to take; he zapped away his own minor mistakes, like the phrase “taken for granite,” not to mention things that implicate his family members, like Beth choosing Summer over Morty in her alien Sophie’s Choice scenario.
While most of the stories were amusing in that black comic way the show’s mastered, it feels like they’re all another brick in the wall of Morty getting tired of Rick’s bullshit, and the rest of the family’s bullshit too. The twist that both Rick and Morty lose their memories and have to use the vials to figure out who they are revitalizes the premise a bit, but also leads to the bleak realization that after seeing all that stuff, the pair want to have a suicide pact.
It’s played mainly for laughs, with Summer barging in on them and refueling their memories in a desultory fashion like she’s had to do this dozens of times, but like most episodes of the show, it finds the humor in something that, at its core, is pretty damn dark. (And then “no wonder you guys fight all the time and are always behind schedule” sounds like a not so veiled bit of self-commentary about Harmon and Roiland, which is a little discouraging.)
Overall, it’s a fun, rapid-fire premise for an episode that allows the show to deliver its humor and demented scenarios in quick hit format, but which still uses the form to offer a commentary on its two core characters, what they’ve seen, and the frustrations and vanity and ego that drives them to want to end it all. The fact that the show can wring comedy from that is just another pelt on the wall of its achievements.
[8.1/10] Ambiguity can be both frustrating and brilliant. There is a natural impulse in most people to want to know the answers, to resolve the unknown, but the unknown is also a part of life, and if a television show can harness that, use it to make meaning, it can hit outstanding notes. David Chase knew that with The Sopranos , his protégé Matt Weiner knew it with Mad Men, and Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland seem to know it with Rick and Morty.
Because the last thing you’re likely to think about when you flip off “The ABCs of Beth” (if you’re not reflecting on the amusingly self-aware answering machine gag) is whether or not Beth replaced herself with a clone and left to go mount the universe. Rick and Morty is a show that usually delivers answers, even if it’s content to delay them for months or, in the case of Evil Morty, even years. But maybe some questions shouldn’t be answered.
I think that’s the point of “The ABCs of Beth.” Rick gives his daughter two options: either she can create a painless substitute that will carry her current life forward while she prowls the galaxy in search of meaning or adventure, or she can live her life as is, knowing it’s what she actually chose with clear eyes and real alternatives on the table. The Beth we meet at the end of the episode could be either -- the content clone or the real, happy Beth who’s satisfied at having picked this rather than having it forced upon her.
That’s the cinch of the episode. For many of us sitting home, we have similar choices, even if they’re not quite so fantastical. We can radically change our lives, pursuing abstract principles and goals at the expense of all that we know, or we can go forward with how things are, finding comfort and joy in the day-to-day. There are multiple paths to happiness, Rick and Morty seems to posit, or at least multiple paths to wholeness, and which path you take there isn’t necessarily evident or comprehensible to an outsider observer. But it starts with accepting who you are and what you want.
That’s the noteworthy parallel “ABCs” draws between its outstanding A-story and its less-inspired B-story. Both Beth and Jerry spend much of the episode attempting to deny who they are, blaming unfortunate events on family members, rather than owning them, accepting that the consequences are a product of their own actions.
For Jerry, that means accepting that him dating an alien huntress is a pathetic attempt to make Beth jealous. It’s an interesting way to mirror the two stories, but Jerry’s half of the episode just isn’t as strong. Maybe it’s the hard-to-watch way his kids just bust on him constantly (not that he doesn’t deserve it). Maybe it’s the divorced dad humor that’s pretty tepid, even if it’s spiced up in Rick and Morty’s intergalactic fashion. Maybe it’s that the ultimate twist -- that the huntress ends up going after the Smiths, only run into her ex -- is amusing but predictable.
Jerry’s part of the episode isn’t bad or anything. The bubble gun is enjoyable. Jerry’s barely-sublimated space racism and smugness is used for amusing effect. And there’s some more frank exposing of Jerry’s true colors. But it mainly feels like Rick and Morty needed something for the rest of the cast to do while Rick and Beth hit the high notes, and little that happens in Jerry’s dating life, however explosive, can match it.
But really, who could match the horrible realization that not only was your childhood fantasy land real, but that your childhood friend is still stuck there in it. There’s so many endlessly interesting things that spin out from the unveiling of “Froopyland.” I’d be lying if I said that the reveal that Beth’s friend survived by “humping” the fantastical creatures and then eating his own children didn’t gross me out, but Rick and Morty manages to wring the humor from even that with its bizarre little forest creature play about it.
Stronger still is the emotional and character material. For one thing, we learn that Rick created this fantasy land for his daughter. He claims it’s a practical measure, something to keep her occupied and to keep the neighbors from getting suspicious. But as the Citadel episode hinted with its Rick wafers, there’s a part of Rick that really does care about his daughter, even if it means he shows it in weird ways like creating deranged toys, or letting her help him clone her childhood friend, or giving her a way out of her family.
For another, we learn that Beth, despite her seemingly greater morals and guilt and issues with her dad, is just like him. That’s been a subtle thread throughout Season 3, with particularly resonance in “Pickle Rick.” Beth admits it herself, realizing how she denies the utility of apologies, and elides her own mistakes and past by casting those things as simply how others interpret her greatness. Her unwillingness to face that she pushed her childhood pal in the honey pit, and her then getting into a bloody confrontation with him, is an odd form of self-acceptance, but also a cathartic one.
It leads Beth back to the choice that represents the crux of the episode. If you are the daughter of Rick Sanchez, the miserable, amoral, genius, do you go out and try to ride the universe until it gets tired of bucking you, or do you try a different way, a way that finds happiness in being a part of your family, in doing the everyday. It’s the clearest suggestion yet as to what choice Rick himself made when he left Beth and her mother all those years ago.
But as much as they have in common, Beth is not her father. She feels enough guilt to want to save her friend’s dad from death row, to look at those pictures of her family on the fridge and feel the wistfulness of the thought of leaving him. We just don’t know if that’s enough to change her mind.
Maybe we shouldn’t know. I bet dollars to donuts that one day we will, that the “real” Beth will come floating down in Season 5 and cause some story sparks just like Evil Morty and the Cronenberg Universe Smiths did. But regardless, the force of the ambiguity is clear. There are different ways to live, different ways to try to make your peace with who you are and what you want out of this universe. What we choose, and why we choose it, can be opaque, even to ourselves, and the art that reflects that vagueness, that uncertainty, can be all the stronger for it.
The one 16 year old girl says she's supposed to be "this great detective", the other 16 year old girl buys a bar and trades it for a diner and the third 16 year old gets crowned king of the Serpents. I don't think the writers even remember their ages at this point.
I'm not happy with the way this whole Black Hood season ended. It really feels like the writers had no idea who they wanted to put under the hood and halfway through the season they heard the theory of Hal being the Black Hood and they decided to roll with it like two episodes before the finale. For once there are no subtle hints for it to be him before episode 20 and on the other hand the whole reasoning and execution at the end felt hollow and cheap, especially the part about THE DARKNESS™. I thought at least one of the adults would finally address this as mental illness, but nope. Don't think we'll ever get to see any of them in therapy either.
Three things that I'm curious about - Chic, Alice's dead son and Polly.
Chic just disappeared and we still don't know anything. Was there even a point to begin with? I thought his creepiness would be relevant somehow, but nothing happened. I'm wondering if he'll come back next season.
Then there's Alice's dead son. I was actually thinking he's not dead because we really didn't get to see anything about him. It felt really tragic to know that Alice saw him and closed the door in his face, but I thought it would connect more with the overall story or with Chic.
And then there's Polly who definitely had something going on. I wonder if we know this mysterious guy who helped her or if her mother will get dragged into a weird cult. And I actually find this much more interesting than the cliffhanger that Archie is arrested (I was sure there would be some bloodshed after Jug's weird announcement) and Hiram is still planning to deal drugs on the New Southside. I was actually hoping for him to leave Riverdale or go to prison at the end of the season, but apparently his cheap mobster story will continue.
And even after all these complaints every week I'm still excited to watch new episodes and do enjoy it. It's over the top and crazy but at the same time I find it so entertaining :D
I kind of enjoyed this episode and that has everything to do with the fact that the parents got a bit more screentime and that for a second it looked like something really shocking was about to happen in this Gargoyle garbage which of course didn`t really.
I like seeing more of Cheryl and Toni but there has to be more there, there is not enough story there to truly get in touch with the characters. I'm actually a little relieved that Jug and Betty weren't a focuspoint of this episode, it's refreshing to see some other characters for a change, like Kevin and Josie.
Josie and Archie is a good match, way better than Varchie in my opinion and speaking of Veronica, can she possibly get more annoying? yes, of course she can. It's all about her and when her boyfriend tells her that his dad beats him up, oh well...
I liked how the parents all came together for this game and the safety of their children and that when the threat seems real that all of them come through for their kids even the ones who pretend to not care at all about their kids like Penelope. It's the little things in storylines like that that make the difference.
It is a total let down that they managed to bring forth ANOTHER Gargoyle King. How long can they stretch this out?
Well, that certainly turned DARKER rather quickly. Vanya's new beau is at the least a next level stalker, possibly a serial killer, or, on a long shot, also "special" or, has knowledge of Vanya's suppressed (since childhood) abilities, which makes her either hella dangerous, thus the suppression, or part of Daddy dearest's diabolical experiment to see what happens if you take a "special" child, and tell them they aren't worth bothering about, until they lose any and all confidence in themselves. I REALLY hope she's dangerous, cuz, otherwise, Papa needed killin' real good.
Diego has got guilt transference down really good. Kills his own "Mom" and makes Luther feel bad about wanting to shut her down. Abandons the family and turns it to "well, why did you stay, the problem is YOU". Douche. Even when his Detective Ex girlfriend / booty call FINALLY does what he's been egging her on all along to do, breaks protocol, and pays the price, he transfers the blame to HER, asking "Why didn't you wait for me? I was coming?" Dude has MAJOR issues.
What if Vanya IS the cause of the end??? Just sayin'.
Yes, Sheehan has basically been doing a glammed up Nathan, but then he always plays some version of that character since Misfits IMO.
The concept is good, the look is good, it should all be fun and exciting and right up my alley but for some strange reason I couldn't get in it. It's not a bad show but it's way too cookie-cutter I guess. It's nothing new. Add to this that the show is very long-winded... Episodes and scenes seem to go for ages and there's a lot of "quiet moments" scattered throughout the episode. Like the scene where they're in the veteran's-bar, you already know he was in Vietnam (clearly) but it goes on and on only to prove, with a picture, that he was in Vietnam...
Ellen Page (at least 5 episodes in, I'm sure something's gonna happen with her) , to me, is the weak link. She's as "unspecial" as the character she plays... (until she's not at the end of the show most likely) She's quite frankly just Ellen Page playing Ellen Page. Also... remember Mary J Blige? She's in here too! Being all percolated, crunked up in this dancery 'n shit.
All the main characters don't really FEEL fleshed out either. They have backstory but they still seem cardboard. They're not uninteresting or annoying or anything... The druggie is sometimes but he's too endearing to hate.
Due to this I don't know if this show is good or not. I like it though so I guess that's all that matters. It's forfilling, it does what it needs to do... It's a higher tier of junkfood that takes a couple of chews too much to get through. But at the end I'm sure you'll be satisfied but you didn't eat at a 5-star restaurant. And that's fine.
I wonder how Doom Patrol will be...
Oh, wow, this was, surprisingly, a lot of fun! I don't know the books and, for me, American Gods was one of the biggest TV disappointments of the last few years. So, I decided to watch this without getting my hopes up (although Terry Pratchett's name did give me some hope)... And I ended up truly enjoying the amusing, light-hearted tone of the whole episode, while juggling gloomy things like Satan and Armageddon at the same time. Because of this (and the narration and colourful scenery), it even reminded me of Pushing Daisies, at times, so I'm surprised Bryan Fuller has nothing to do with this.
Both main actors excel in their roles (me being a fan of Mr. Blum on The Good Fight and, of course, Dr. Who and Killgrave), which only seems to make this show even more appealing, when there's already a solid chemistry between such a quirky duo at the helm of a show.
I think this is a mini-series (there's only one book, right?), so it saddens me that we probably won't be getting any more than these 6 episodes... But I'm sure they'll be some of the best 6 episodes I'll have the pleasure to watch for a while. And this is definitely the episode with the cutest lullaby and hellhound on TV, ever (probably)!
Now off to binge watch the rest of them!
[7.5/10] I liked this one a bit better than the last episode. The misadventures with the descendents of the most noteworthy witch and witch hunter were more amusing that the baby switcheroo act, and we got some more Sheen/Tenant goodness, which helped.
As to the former, I like the notion that Pulcifer, the modern version at least, is just an unlucky sap. He can’t deal with anything electronic, and has the worst luck overall, which makes him endearing as a sort of sad sack “didn’t ask for this” witch hunter. By the same token, adding Michael McKean to the proceedings is never a bad way to go with your show! The notion of the two of them leading a nutball witch hunt is promising.
The actual witch (or witch descendent) was reasonably entertaining too. I like the idea that for once, there’s a psychic who actually makes useful and accurate predictions, and that her family uses them to get ahead. I’m curious as to where they’re going with Anathema, and the whole bike/book mixup has potential as well.
I’ll admit, I haven’t really latched onto Adam’s quartet of kids just yet. Sure, there’s something cute enough about them misunderstanding history or playacting the British (nee Spanish) Inquisition (ole!). But it hasn’t really gotten a lot of laughs out of me yet, and I know we’re only two episodes in, but I keep waiting for a little more. It occurs to me that we might be in for a twist where it’s the third baby who’s really the antichrist but I may be grasping at straws there.
That said, I still think that the show is a solid 40% better when it’s just the misadventures of Aziraphale and Crowley. The two of them going on the hunt for the birth records of the original antichrist is especially amusing. Aziraphale’s stuffiness and generally creampuffery mixed with Crowley’s dash of sarcasm and devil’s foodcake is still a superb recipe.
I also like the little cheats here and there. Crowley helping Aziraphale with his stain, or having the corporate teambuilding paintball match turn into one with real guns that nevertheless involves beaucoup miraculous escapes hints at a nicer streak within him. And it’s just as fun to see Crowley himself get mad and threatening when Aziraphale almost calls him out on it.
The bike crash incident is amusing as well, with the pair using their powers in fun ways to try to keep Anathema from getting suspicious. I also got a kick out of Gabriel in the book shop making alien attempts to be discreet. At times, you can still see the strings of this show trying to capture a certain tone and voice that works in literature but is hard to translate to a different medium, but this episode fared a little better on that front.
Overall, I’m still in this for the angel/demon team-up moments much more than I’m in it for any of the other apocalyptic shenanigans, but the show had a better balance of that this time around, which helped.