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.
Very very good finale. I really enjoyed Lyra and Asriel's scenes together. He is a fascinating character with so many sides to him. It's obvious that he cares about Lyra, but his mission takes precedence over everything, even his daughter or his morals - we could see he took no pleasure in sacrificing Roger, but he didn't hesitate to do it because he feels he has a duty to free all of humanity from enslavement. Having read the books, I obviously knew the tragic ending was coming, but it still hit me really hard. Roger was a sweet cinnamon roll and he deserved better. His death was absolutely devastating, maybe even more than in the book, since Lyra got SO CLOSE to him that she could hold his hand. My poor babies :( And on Will's side of things, he's finally found the opening! I have to say, I love the foreshadowing with the cat that showed him the way. Now that we're onto The Subtle Knife, things are gonna get crazy. Can't wait.
As a long-time fan of the books, I find a whole lot to like about this series. The casting is for the most part excellent, especially Ruth Wilson, who was born to play Marisa Coulter, and James McAvoy, who brings a lot of nuance and depth to Lord Asriel. I was so looking forward to finally seeing them interact and their chemistry is amazing. I would really love to see a miniseries centered around these two when they first met and everything that happened leading up to Lyra's birth. Dafne Keen somehow manages to look like both of her on-screen parents (I genuinely applaud the casting director) and I think she's done a good job with her portrayal of Lyra. Her acting can be a bit hit-and-miss at times, but when she's on, she's pretty amazing. I also like the actors who portray Lord Boreal and Will. And speaking of Will, I don't mind the fact that the series decided to introduce him in season 1. I actually like it because I remember how jarring it was for me when he popped up out of nowhere in the second book. I was annoyed because it felt like he was interrupting Lyra's story. The show has done a good job of making us care about him just as much as we care about Lyra, telling us right out of the gate that this story has two protagonists from parallel worlds whose fates are intertwined and who will inevitably meet at some point. Very good choice on the showrunners' part. The visuals and cinematography are beautiful, the music is excellent (the opening credits slay me every time) and it's for the most part a very faithful adaptation of the source material.
Not everything is perfect, though. The biggest problem I have with the series is that it severely undermines the relationship between humans and daemons. There is literally nothing stronger in Lyra's world than that bond. Seeing someone without a daemon is so viscerally terrifying that it's like seeing someone without a head. Yet in the series we constantly see people without daemons. Yes, yes budgetary restrictions and all that, but you know what? Maybe that's a controversial opinion, but if you don't have enough money to accurately represent one of the key world-building features of the story, then perhaps you shouldn't be adapting said story in the first place. Can't believe I'm saying this, but even the movie, which is terrible in many ways, managed to portray it better, at least between Lyra and Pan. I don't think I'll ever forgive the show for the way Lyra just ignored Pan after they were almost separated at Bolvangar and ran towards Marisa instead of immediately grabbing her freaking soul, her dearest companion, from that cage. Like I said, even in the movie Lyra would cuddle Pan whenever something dangerous happened. Meanwhile on the show I can count on one hand how many times Lyra touched her daemon over the course of 8 episodes. Again, I understand that they have budgetary restrictions, but Lyra and Pan's relationship is probably the most important dynamic in the books and it just doesn't feel that way in the series. Another thing I don't like - and I realize that in the grand scheme of things it's really not that important - is that they changed Kaisa from a goose to a gyrfalcon. I know they did it because a talking goose looked bad and cartoonish and they felt they couldn't make it work, but we've seen many characters with raptor daemons (Ma Costa and Tony, for example). Kaisa being a goose was unusual, unique, and changing that fundamentally changes who Serafina is as a person. To me, daemons are probably one of the greatest concepts ever invented in literature. They're endlessly fascinating. So the way they're treated on the show is just bitterly disappointing.
Okay, deep breath, rant over.
Still looking forward to season 2. And in the meantime, if anyone is interested in daemons as much as I am, I recommend this quiz: https://app.ex.co/stories/laurenb90/what-is-your-daemon. This is not a self promo or anything (as if I could ever make something this in-depth), but I think it's pretty cool and the results can be pretty damn accurate. This quiz gives you one of the 34 possible animal groups. In the description of that group, there is a link to a second quiz that gives you a specific species or breed within that group. Have fun.
(Mine is an opossum. And I love him.)
Nice try show! But I'm not buying what you're selling. Murphy's come such a long way. He's moved way past being a selfish, self serving asshole. He cares too much about his friends to betray them like that. Plus, the writers of this show are too good to give him such a lazy regression. Murphy is too smart for you Josephine! He's just buying time.
Every second of this episode was magnificent. I was worried they were gonna drag out the whole not Clarke thing. But I should've known better. This show doesn't let you catch your breath before throwing you into the next thing. And I loved it so much that it was Bellamy who figured it out. They're each other's person, how could he not? #bellarkeforever
Also Jordan being the most sensible made my heart happy. He's the new moral compass. He definitely takes after his dad! It's not okay that the primes are brainwashing people into thinking it's cool to kill someone to hijack their body. Besides, this boy, who grew up really isolated, was the first one to realize something smelled fishy. And everyone else, who should know better than to take things at face value, were super dismissive about his concerns. I love Jordan.
And how amazing was that Octavia/Diyoza heart to heart? Diyoza certainly knows a thing or two about being a violently ruthless leader. And it seems she has struggled with the guilt and consequences of her actions (much as Octavia is doing right now) and come out the other side. It's also pretty clear she sees herslef in Octavia. Maybe she'll turn into a mentor of sorts (kinda like Indra was in previous seasons), and teach her how to accept and move on, so Octavia doesn't self-destruct and can learn to live with herself and the terrible things she's done, just like all the other characters of the show. Plus there was that weird event with the green light and now her hand is all messed up!
I can't wait for next week!
[7.7/10] I got a big kick out of this one. For starters, this one is just plain fun. It’s a blast to see The Owl House take the stuffing out of a variety of Young Adult fantasy fiction, from Harry Potter, to Labyrinth, with dashes of Twilight and even Lord of the Rings tossed in there for good measure. The show has a lot of fun poking at tropes in these stories like kind wizards, hunky-but-angsty love interests, and cheerful characters and animal sidekicks along the way.
But I also love it as a deconstruction of “magical orphan” stories specifically and “chosen one” stories more generally. There’s a particular wish-fulfillment to chosen one stories, in the idea that we are simply preternaturally special for reasons beyond ourselves. It’s comforting to think that the things that make us different, and therefore make life dn fitting in harder for us, are secretly the key to some mystical destiny. That destiny justifies our quirks and excuses us from having to work for our success because it’s all but preordained.
“Witches Before Wizards” is an episode that nicely interrogates that idea, why it’s appealing, but also why it’s also hollow and a little dangerous. The device of the creepy tentacled puppeteer demon making this all happen is the right mix of amusing and creepy. But more to the point, Luz being allured by the comforting idea that she’s the lone chosen human destined to Set Right What Went Wrong, but ultimately rejecting it for a more hardscrabble but rewarding reality, is a heartening choice that shows why she’s a character worth rooting for.
It also helps make Eda seem more likable, despite having an early Uncle Stan-like blase attitude toward Luz at first. She’s not just giving Luz crap jobs. She’s doing the work with Luz, and even showing her a bit of wonder in this realm that seems a little less whimsical and a little more icky than the ones Luz imagined in her stories. The scene where she shows Luz Bonesboro from above, giving it a new sense of wonder and promising that she’ll get her magical staff some day, is a very nice beat for the Owl Lady. It’s a promise that these things won’t come easy, but that they will come.
This is also just a funny episode. King’s fascination with scones got a laugh out of me. So did Luz using a little He Man-esque light up sword. And Eda’s warning not to trust a guy wearing sandals coming true was an especially amusing touch.
Most of all, I like this is as a message from the writers to the audience. No, The Owl House will not be that kind of young adult fantasy story. It will be messier, stranger, and all around goofier than the traditional tales. But it too promises to have something more worthwhile lurking at the end of the tale. Sign me up.
The show starts in a post-apocalyptic setting, with 100 teens being used as guinea pigs to see if the Earth is habitable, while the rest barely cling to life in the Arc, a collection of merged space stations.
You have to give this show more than the first two episodes before you make a final judgment. Episode three has an event that demonstrates that it's not a fluffy teen show. Although the 100 kids just party, fuck, and quarrel in their initial time on Earth, starting episode four they turn their attention to sensible survival things like food and defenses. If you still don't like the show by episode five, it's probably not for you.
If I offended you with one bad word in the previous paragraph, then this show is not for you. Also, it's not a show for young teens or older prudish viewers. In this show, a ~33 year old scores easily with a ~16 year old girl. One teen girl has been with three guys by the end of season two. There is a bit of lesbian teen girl action. Teens are murdered by teens. Making immoral decisions to survive is a constant theme.
The character development is quite noticeable. Some "evil" characters become good. Some "good" characters become evil. It's appropriate, given the difficult circumstances they face. Over time, cartoony one-dimensional characters morph into complex interesting people.
Many commenters point out the beautiful female cast members. The star, Eliza Taylor (Clarke), reminds me of Reese Witherspoon in appearance. She's gorgeous and yet eclipsed by the beauty of costar Marie Avgeropoulos (Octavia), who rightfully gets the lion's share of drooling from the teen boys in the show. Then there is Paige Turco, who plays Clarke's mother. She's 49 years of total hotness, and she's also a very experienced and skilled actress. Holy cow, 49. Lindsey Morgan (Raven) looks her age (24 years old), and I think she's supposed to be 18 on the show, so she takes me out of the immersion a bit. Of course, Clarke and Octavia are played by shockingly old actresses as well.
On top of that, there are at least three cast members who played major characters on Battlestar Galactica.
The science seems really weak, but maybe I'll change my mind as I learn more. I was skeptical of the acid fog, but then the show gave a logical explanation that satisfied me.
All in all, it's a good science fiction show and not the teenybopper show that it seems to be initially.
[7.9/10] Nope is a film of tremendous spectacle. Writer/director/producer Jordan Peele has not lost the slightest of steps in crafting evocative sequences with his team. He elicits tension as heroes and bystanders alike flee the giant specter lurking through the sky, ready to suck them up. He captures the balletic grace of a ribbony jellyfish creature floating through the clouds and gobbling up what it finds. He gets the heart pumping as his new age cowboy races through the western skyline, dust whipping in his wake, as the creature sharply pursues. To see it on the big screen is to be awed by it.
But at the same time, it is a film about that spectacle, the lengths filmmakers go to capture it, profit from it, take credit for it. It’s hard to know how to take that. There’s a recursive quality to the film, a movie rife with impossible images about the cost and peril, moral and otherwise, about committing those images to film. At the very least, it speaks to one of Peele’s recurring narrative motifs, those overlooked or underappreciated, who nonetheless contribute to that which is beautiful and even transcendent, even as they’re appropriated or forgotten.
Here, he extends that franchise to the animals made to perform for Hollywood productions. From Gordy, the sitcom chimp who goes on a rampage, to the horses on the Haywood family ranch loaned out for television and film, to Jean Jacket, the living UFO who feeds on whatever flesh he finds in the great loping west, Nope is suffused with an inherent respect and fear for the wild animals made to perform for our amusement.
The subtext of the story suggests that these animals should not be treated as just another prop, but rather respected and treated like the fellow souls they are. They possess a power, one that requires us to meet them on their level to be able to forge a working relationship with them, lest we be subject to the parts of them that remain wild, the parts we cannot control, no matter how much we think we have them cowed.
The themes, as always, are potent. Nope lingers in the mind and the heart, in its reflections on the creatures made to perform, the urge to wrangle such heart-stopping images, and those who are disregarded and overlooked in both efforts. But the film’s characters are some of Peele’s most inaccessible. Their decisions are often strange, their reactions stranger. Their motivations vary, but often come down to the need for wealth or fame or both. They are some of the director’s most colorful figures, but in a way that can obscure the sense of an inner life beyond the ideas and motifs they signify. It makes the movie a hard one to warm to at times, with the players more sketched than defined.
And yet, in those quieter undefined spaces, Daniel Kaluuya shines once again. It’s hard to discern whether his character -- O.J. Haywood, the inheritor of his father’s Hollywood horse ranch -- is meant to be neurodivergent or simply the archetypal strong silent type. Regardless, he is a man of few words, and Kaluuya makes a meal out of the meaningful looks and body language that convey his bearing and demeanor despite that.
He is reserved, if not outright shy, full of determination, if only to carry on the barrier-breaking legacy his father built, and he is made of steely, steady, stuff. Those qualities make him someone who understands animals better than people, and combine to make him the perfect soul to respect, comprehend, and even commune with this being from the beyond.
Peele and cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema also understand how to shoot him. Nope is filled with any number of eerie, low-light scenes where OJ, his more extraverted sister Em, and their handful of neighbors and allies investigated the strangeness hovering above their doorstep. Peele and his collaborators still know how to evoke a sense of dread in these moments, with obscured visions, suggestions of something ominous, and blank spaces for the viewers to fill in with god knows what.
But there’s also great attention to the detail in the lighting, bringing out Kaluuya’s complexion and definition even in darkness, highlighting his expressive eyes, that allows his performance to take center stage even amid the building horror and eerie tone. There’s an interiority to O.J. in particular, and sharp choices in lighting and composition help draw it out to the audience’s wavelength.
Peele and company also do well to set up rules for Jean Jacket that both speak to the movie’s themes while creating practical challenges for the main characters to overcome. The flying beast deadens anything electrical in its wake, something that stops vehicles in their tracks, permits the sound team to chill the audience with waning audio, and makes filming it that much more challenging. The alien creature can only consume organic matter, with rains of discarded metal and other leavings that make it sick creating both a practical danger and frightening imagery. And as with the horses the Haywood family trains, it is provoked through making eye-contact with it as it roams the skies above, turning the horror flick into a reverse “the floor is lava” game of staying shielded from view. These qualities are cinematic, while also creating pragmatic challenges that the main players must be clever and determined to overcome.
In that, the movie’s creative team crafts some of the stunning horror that already defines Peele’s budding filmography. The title drop comes when O.J. witnesses the magnitude and power of this cloud-hopping behemoth, “nopes out” of doing anything to get in its way, as the same imposing figure prompts the audience to do the same. It’s a film as steeped in feelings as it is in thoughts, and the sense of abject terror as something that cannot be controlled, or tamed, only accommodated, imposes its will on those brave or foolhardy enough to try to use it for notoriety, riches, or entertainment.
Nope uses it for those ends too. It’s hard to tell whether the filmmakers want us to feel complicit in this, to speak out against animal cruelty in Holywood, to recognize the below-the-line workers who make the impossible into the real, or simply to experience the same terror and triumph its players do. But in this alternating languid and exhilarating movie, the spectacle, and the awe, overwhelm, as Peele conveys his signature incredible images, through his characters striving to do the same.
[9.2/10] I've said before that I am particularly receptive to episodes of these mythos-heavy shows that get a little spiritual and philosophical about their worlds. I don't know why it appeals to me exactly, but maybe it's because it's the show doing what reviewers often do -- try to extract the deeper meaning and symbolism of the proceedings. So having Aang trained by Toph and Katara on the one hand, and Zuko trained by Iroh on the other, with lots of parallels and maxims and spiritual interludes really scratches an itch for me.
I particularly like the way that the episode compares and contrasts Aang and Zuko. Both of them are trying to learn a new skill to complete their challenges, both of them struggle with it because it calls upon them to do something unfamiliar and outside their natural skillset and mindset, and both of them connect these new skills with personal connections.
But what distinguishes them rather than unites them is the way their specific difficulties are different, even if they take the same form. Aang has proven to be preternaturally adept at each new form of bending (as you’d expect The Avatar to be) so the fact that earth-bending, which Katara explains must be air-bending’s opposite, is so unintuitive and hard for him is unusual. Zuko, on the other hand, has always struggled to learn how to use his powers, as we’ve learned from his flashbacks, so his inability to perform lightning-bending is just one more frustration on top of his usual struggles.
The reasons for their difficulties are also distinct. Aang is used to the malleable, adaptive nature of air, so the ethos of earth-bending, which requires standing your ground, facing your challenge head on, and simply out-willing it rather than finding a creative solution is unnatural and unintuitive for him. He starts to wonder if he has the mettle in him for earth-bending, if he will ever be able to call upon that instinct. Zuko, however, has a near-opposite problem, where he cannot find balance or peace or humility sufficient to learn how to bend lightning. Rather than being unable to stand his ground, Zuko feels the ground constantly shifting underneath him, and so, oddly enough, lacks the stability to control something as mercurial as lightning.
But their solutions are different. What allows Aang to break through his struggles is what always pulls him through in difficult times – his connections to his friends. The fact that Sokka’s life is at stake in the face of a charging saber-toothed moose lion (???) is enough to make Aang stand his ground. A bare rock hurtling toward him just prompts the usual ways of sidestepping for Aang (which is reductive of his past, but works for the story the episode’s telling), but one of his best friends being at risk changes the stakes and gives him the courage to stand his ground.
Zuko’s only connection is to his uncle, who offers one of those creative solutions that Aang is trying to avoid. There’s such intrigue in the notion that Iroh is interdisciplinary in his bending. Again, there’s a thematic contrast, where Aang is trying to learn to hold firm so that he can earth-bend, where Zuko is trying to learn to be balanced and use defense as offense, by learning Iroh’s lightning-channeling technique. But unlike Toph (who probably had control of the situation if things had started to get bad, though who knows) Iroh is unwilling to put his pupil at risk.
And yet, Zuko seeks it out on his own. Zuko standing on that mountain, offering angry pleas at the heavens for lightning to test him, is a heightened emotional moment, bundling up Zuko’s passion, his regrets, his insecurities, his anger, and his pain in one grand gesture. Zuko doesn’t get that lightning, merely prostrating himself against a sky that is as uncaring as his father, but something tells me he’ll have his chance before the season is over.
But even apart from the larger Aang-Zuko parallels, the episode is supremely enjoyable and compelling. For one thing, the discussions from Iroh, Toph, and Katara about the different natures of the four elements and their practitioners is fascinating. Iroh’s descriptions of the four disciplines fall a little too much into the often reductive Hogwarts House phenomenon, but still does a good job at tying the qualities of the elements themselves with the qualities of those who wield them. And the fact that he promotes the idea that understanding all four and taking things from each is important helps sand down the edges of some of the categorization. From last season’s reveal that Iroh can see into the spirit world, there’s always been hints that he’s more attuned to these things than others, and it’s nice to see that explicated a bit.
There’s also a nice contrast drawn between Toph and Katara. Rather than the pair of them butting heads, it shows the two of them as essentially parents with conflicting styles who both want the best for the kid they’re “raising.” Katara’s encouraging style, focused on positive reinforcement and motivating Aang through compliments and gentle correction have gotten him far, and Iroh’s speech implies it’s the correct technique for learning water-bending. But Toph’s hardnosed, Rocky-montage routine seems to be equally appropriate for learning earth-bending, where her subtle nods and harsh tones eventually effect the right change in Aang to make him able to move rocks.
And I haven’t even gotten to the great comic relief from Sokka being stuck in the ground! (Shades of the Robot Chicken “Giraffe in Quicksand” sketch!) First of all, the saber-toothed moose cub is the most adorable creature A:TLA has offered thus far, and Sokka’s name for it only added to that. But just seeing Sokka, in a comic mirror of Zuko, plead with the heavens for salvation, promising no more meat-eating or sarcasm in exchange, was hilarious. The comic writing for Sokka has improved by leaps and bounds, to where he is a consistent highlight and great break from the more serious side of Avatar.
Overall, this is one of the show’s best episodes so far, even as the batting average for A:TLA has much improved in its second season. The thematic parallels and distinctions between Aang and Zuko provide a nice spine for the episode, and the philosophical discussions about the various elements make for an interesting look at the spiritual side of the Avatar world. “Bitter Work,” and the show as a whole, offer the story of two young people, trying their hardest to achieve something that doesn’t come naturally, and finding very different choices and different outcomes based on who they are, and who they have helping them along.
The Love Witch is an incredible movie, one of the best of the last two decades at least. Anna Biller's first feature film Viva was its precursor and already a great first attempt at conveying the idea of art in cinema. With The Love Witch, Biller achieves that goal and surpasses all expectations. It is an amazing technical feat, even more so when you realise that she herself had a literal hand in all the aspects of her film; the art, designs, sets, props, costumes as well as obviously writing and directing.
This time and unlike Viva, she doesn't act in the main role and cedes that position to Samantha Robinson, who is stellar. Her performance echoes the ones from the industry's greatest. She is charm and presence incarnate.
To viewers who didn't understand the acting at times, let me tell you this: think theater on a reel and not method acting. I personally never once thought the acting was weird or bad or whichever derogatory argument. It is just great and works as a stunning aesthetic device in the film, like all its other aspects do and are; from the incredible use of colours, to the mystifying music.
The Love Witch is a technical and artistic triumph. It is the definition of an aesthetic movie with depth and character, and if this does not fit the idea of cinema as art, I don't know what does.
This episode is one of the best of the season, the writing and tension superb. There is not a single extraneous or wasted scene or moment, and the focus on the story unfolding remaining very sharp.
The salvage mission on the the Anubis by now feels familiar, but I'm glad it's the crew of the Rocinante doing the blowing up rather than running. What they uncover of course are more questions, and almost few answers.
The moment the crew of the Rocinante and Miller meet up in the Blue Falcon, in search of Lionel Polanski, is one of the high points of this season, and one that still thrills me although I think I've seen this episode three times at this writing.
Somehow, and there's a little voice that is telling me this, they will be together for a minute.
One has to feel some type of way for Miller. His heartbreak at finding his answers is heart wrenching. This is some major turning point for Miller. I'm not certain what is coming for him, but Julie Mao will be for him, what the Cant is for the crew of the Rocinante, and maybe for the whole solar system. Either way, this looks like kismet. Never mind the whole, "touch me again and there'll be another body on the floor," bit. It looks like kismet.
One of the things to appreciate with the season winding down, is how it has used detail and visual textures to build a convincing world and story. The little clues we've been getting are beginning to add up.
Listen, I am really digging Amos. He's the last of the Rocinante crew that I've gotten attached to, but I am really digging him.
Disclaimer: I've only read the Six of Crows duology and loved it.
I really liked this series. It melds the Shadow and Bone book series with the Six of Crows, both written by Leigh Bardugo and taking place in the Grishaverse universe.
It manages to make its own identity through good story line, fast pathing, interesting characters and settings and beautiful sceneries.
I thought the first half of the season flowed exceptionally well, but some of the later episodes were a bit disappointing for me.
Pros:
- Visually stunning. Costumes, scenery and special effects are delightful.
- Cast is on point. Really loved Kit Young as Jesper and Jessie Mei Li as Alina.
- The world is well thought and fleshed out.
In between:
- Pathing is very fast, not many moments were you can pause and think about what's happening.
- Story is original, but nothing never seen before.
- Matthias and Nina storyline feels rushed and unnecessary for this first season. Actually, most of the Six of Crows storylines have little to no impact on the overall scheme of things in season 1, and just acting as a stepping stone for season 2.
Cons:
- Some scenes are VERY dark and it's difficult to see what's happening.
- Some plot points could have had more explaining, mainly the Morozova's beasts storyline, which I thought were kind of a deus ex machina.
All in all a very enjoyable watch, extremely bingeable and satisfying.
I recommend to all fantasy fans.
8/10
Deserving of high praises and top rating
"The Uncanny Counter" (2020) Season 1 was a live-action adaptation of the webtoon ("digital Korean manhwa") entitled "Kyeongirowoon Somoon" (2018) by Jang Yi. It stars Jo Byung Kyoo, Yoo Joon Sang, Kim Se Jeong, and Yeom Hye Ran, as the Counters--people who hunts evil spirits.
The multiple story arcs were well thought out and I was amazed with how these different stories perfectly fit together in the end which brought out the best in the characters and the moral lessons of the series. The casting and acting for the four lead characters were so good it was as the audience witnessed a true story.
The music, overall production, editing, and directing, were all superb. The choreography in the fight scenes were not lacking and were not overdone, simply fitting for four ordinary individuals to do; otherwise it would have been unrealistic.
Finally, and it is rare to see this in most Asian dramas, they ended the series properly leaving an option for a sequel or a new season. Stories should not be sealed--leaving no room for the audience to create their own continuation, which in turn also leaves no room for an official sequel.
Since it was already announced that season 2 was given a green light, it further proved the importance of ending a series with room for the future. Well done. I will be waiting for season 2.
Onward is a solid and heartwarming adventure about brotherhood and the importance of believing in yourself
Even though over the years we have come to expect nothing but perfection out of Pixar, (Which is kinda harsh from my perspective even though it unfortunately makes sense) I believe it is still worth noting that movies like this one give the impression that the beloved animation studio wants to keep enchanting us with stories that are relatable, creative and tug hard at your heart strings.
The movie pretty much does all that is listed and then some. The world is unique combining our modern day world with a dungeons and dragons like twist, The chemistry between the brothers is beyond enjoyable and the story does it's very best to give audiences something adventurous but also something though provoking as well
Although I personally wouldn't put it up there with other Pixar Originals like Inside Out, Wall.E, Monsters Inc, Finding Nemo and ect.... I still believe that Onward is still one of the better movies Pixar has put out in a while and definitely stands on it's own merits as a great family adventure that has something for everyone
All I can say now is, Pixar, I'm super excited to see what you come up with next.
I've been a fan of Taylor's music for a long time but for a while I refrained myself from being too vocal about my support for her as a person, because it wasn't cool and we were all supposed to think this and that about her and if you didn't you were labelled all sorts of things, so instead of defending her i just didn't say anything, and enjoyed her music outside of that sphere of drama and controversy. But with Taylor it's really hard to fall in love with her music and not instinctively fall in love with her too, because everything that she is she puts into those songs, those lyrics, those melodies, so if you love her music then that means you love her, and i soon figured that out. The way she's grown and become more vocal about everything we all already thought she had in her is really inspiring and, in my opinion, what she needed to fully become an icon, because icons have to stand for something and help change history with their platform, which is music, which happens to be the wider reaching form of art there is in this world. I'm so so happy she's finally showing the world what she stands for, cus it's not hard to see that privately the values have been there from day one. I really never wanted this docu to end, i wanted it to have 3 hours. Fuck The Irishman, give me 3 and a half hours of Miss Americana instead.
