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Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile (2019) in Movies
Jan 22, 2021
If you check back in the archives of The Wasteland you will see that from time to time I do find myself down the dark, fascinating yet morbid rabbit hole of true crime documentary. I do find the majority of them a little ghoulish, but when done particularly well they can become incredible insights into the human condition at its worst, and the state of the legal and punitive systems that deal with the most extreme cases. How these systems fail, and why, is more of a draw for me than any attempt to understand the person behind the evil crimes. Although I must admit to some curiosity in that regard on a certain level.
One such documentary series that really impressed me was Conversations With a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes, directed by Joe Berlinger. It was very detailed without being sensationalist or forcing drama and tension into the presentation in a manipulative way. I have a particular fascination with Ted Bundy and his crimes, simply because it is such a compellingly bizarre story, of an educated, seemingly ordinary and charming man, that did absolutely horrific things. So, seeing that the same producer had turned his hand as a film-maker, and his deep knowledge of the case and the man, towards a feature film, I had to give it a watch at some point, despite some mixed reviews.
The first thing anyone will want to talk about here, naturally, is the casting of Bundy against type, with the former teen sensation Zac Efron taking on such a huge and daunting role you would have thought beyond him. Physically the resemblance between Efron and Bundy is remarkable; even more so when the period hair styles and costumes are added in. His instinctive understanding of the charm aspect of Bundy is also very spooky – you do get the sense of almost liking him on one hand and fearing him on the other. As an acting exercise, his work here is far more impressive than anything else he has ever done, bar none, hinting that as he moves into his 30s Efron will make a fine supporting actor if well cast.
What is missing from this portrayal of Bundy, however is his own amusement and psychopathic detachment from the crimes that is apparent in documentary footage. Efron’s Bundy is much more serious and sinister, without pushing the boundaries of playing “evil” too far. Whether this was the actor or the director’s choice is unclear. It means ultimately that the tone is earnest and threatening, almost inviting us to like and respect him more. Whereas, with a touch more of the misplaced levity that made watching and listening to the real Bundy so sickening we would have a closer impression of how, despite appearing “normal” on the surface, he never truly was.
Lily Collins is perfectly fine as Bundy’s girlfriend, Liz Kendall, but, again, she makes no attempt to portray the true naivety and denial apparent from footage of the real person, instead choosing to portray her as an innocent woman truly duped by a criminal mastermind. It is a fine performance in the context of this film, I just doubt it is that close to who Liz really was.
John Malkovich also, as the judge who spoke the title of this film in his closing remarks of the real court case, seems to be presenting a movie version of the real person that doesn’t capture the essence of the real dynamic so much as giving us a neat, glossy version of the real man. Put all this together and you still get the facts of what happened without anything changed or misleading, but you also get the impression that it is a heightened drama of events rather than anything even close to presenting the most interesting or disturbing aspects of the story.
In some ways then, it makes this production a touch cowardly. It is very much the certificate 15 version for an easy watching audience. The crimes themselves are not shown, or even discussed in much detail, merely hinted at and brushed over. It assumes you have some knowledge of the more gruesome facts up front, but also, oddly, presents itself as if he may actually be innocent in some way, because this was the view Liz Kendall maintained until even after his death in reality.
Worryingly, this makes the film almost a romance, where the good things about Bundy are given equal weight. Are we being invited to decide for ourselves if he was evil, or even guilty at all? I don’t think that is the point they are going for, but it isn’t that far off! For me then, this film is a curious failure that invites debate and interest, therefore always holding your interest and attention, but is dangerously close to being offensively dismissive of the victims.
Ultimately, I can’t decide whether it is something that should in any way be recommended. If it were a fiction it would play as a decent if unspectacular character study. It looks great, the period detail of the production is very well done and it is eminently watchable. However, the fact that these events were real, and in reality so much more disturbing, leads me to the conclusion that this is problematic viewing to be treated with caution.
One such documentary series that really impressed me was Conversations With a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes, directed by Joe Berlinger. It was very detailed without being sensationalist or forcing drama and tension into the presentation in a manipulative way. I have a particular fascination with Ted Bundy and his crimes, simply because it is such a compellingly bizarre story, of an educated, seemingly ordinary and charming man, that did absolutely horrific things. So, seeing that the same producer had turned his hand as a film-maker, and his deep knowledge of the case and the man, towards a feature film, I had to give it a watch at some point, despite some mixed reviews.
The first thing anyone will want to talk about here, naturally, is the casting of Bundy against type, with the former teen sensation Zac Efron taking on such a huge and daunting role you would have thought beyond him. Physically the resemblance between Efron and Bundy is remarkable; even more so when the period hair styles and costumes are added in. His instinctive understanding of the charm aspect of Bundy is also very spooky – you do get the sense of almost liking him on one hand and fearing him on the other. As an acting exercise, his work here is far more impressive than anything else he has ever done, bar none, hinting that as he moves into his 30s Efron will make a fine supporting actor if well cast.
What is missing from this portrayal of Bundy, however is his own amusement and psychopathic detachment from the crimes that is apparent in documentary footage. Efron’s Bundy is much more serious and sinister, without pushing the boundaries of playing “evil” too far. Whether this was the actor or the director’s choice is unclear. It means ultimately that the tone is earnest and threatening, almost inviting us to like and respect him more. Whereas, with a touch more of the misplaced levity that made watching and listening to the real Bundy so sickening we would have a closer impression of how, despite appearing “normal” on the surface, he never truly was.
Lily Collins is perfectly fine as Bundy’s girlfriend, Liz Kendall, but, again, she makes no attempt to portray the true naivety and denial apparent from footage of the real person, instead choosing to portray her as an innocent woman truly duped by a criminal mastermind. It is a fine performance in the context of this film, I just doubt it is that close to who Liz really was.
John Malkovich also, as the judge who spoke the title of this film in his closing remarks of the real court case, seems to be presenting a movie version of the real person that doesn’t capture the essence of the real dynamic so much as giving us a neat, glossy version of the real man. Put all this together and you still get the facts of what happened without anything changed or misleading, but you also get the impression that it is a heightened drama of events rather than anything even close to presenting the most interesting or disturbing aspects of the story.
In some ways then, it makes this production a touch cowardly. It is very much the certificate 15 version for an easy watching audience. The crimes themselves are not shown, or even discussed in much detail, merely hinted at and brushed over. It assumes you have some knowledge of the more gruesome facts up front, but also, oddly, presents itself as if he may actually be innocent in some way, because this was the view Liz Kendall maintained until even after his death in reality.
Worryingly, this makes the film almost a romance, where the good things about Bundy are given equal weight. Are we being invited to decide for ourselves if he was evil, or even guilty at all? I don’t think that is the point they are going for, but it isn’t that far off! For me then, this film is a curious failure that invites debate and interest, therefore always holding your interest and attention, but is dangerously close to being offensively dismissive of the victims.
Ultimately, I can’t decide whether it is something that should in any way be recommended. If it were a fiction it would play as a decent if unspectacular character study. It looks great, the period detail of the production is very well done and it is eminently watchable. However, the fact that these events were real, and in reality so much more disturbing, leads me to the conclusion that this is problematic viewing to be treated with caution.
Cyn Armistead (14 KP) rated Carniepunk in Books
Mar 1, 2018
As soon as I read about this collection on Kevin Hearne's Facebook, I knew I would be buying it. I don't care for carnivals at all, and every story will be related to one in some way - but there was just no way I was going to miss an Atticus and Oberon story! I even pre-ordered the book on Amazon, the first time I've ever done that. It was SO hard not to skip right ahead and read Hearne's contribution the moment the book was in my hot little hands, but I managed some discipline.
Rob Thurman's "Painted Love" opens the book. It is dark, but to be fair it isn't quite as dark as the only Thurman novel I've read, from the Cal Leandros series. I rather liked the twist. I adored the fiercely protective older sister, especially the way she is described. I'll rate this one at three.
I don't believe I've ever read anything by Delilah S. Dawson before, certainly not anything in the Blud universe, so I had no idea what to expect from "The Three Lives of Lydia." It was a far darker story than I would generally choose to read. I found the male love interest highly appealing. The portrayal of mental illness was horrific. I found it interesting that Dawson is an Atlantan as well as a fellow geeky mom, but I'm sure that I've never heard of her before. She does have a book coming out next year that looks promising, so I may give it a read. This one's a two.
Then there is the Iron Druid story! "The Demon Barker of Wheat Street" is set a few books back in the series' chronology (two weeks after "Two Ravens and One Crow"), so Granuaille isn't yet a full Druid. To make things even more interesting, Atticus accidentally offended the local elemental many years ago, so his magic doesn't work as well as usual in the area. The story isn't vital to the series, and knowledge of the series isn't necessary for enjoying it. Hearne's fans definitely won't want to miss it, though, and it could be used as a nice little taste of his style for new readers. Definitely a five.
I couldn't make it through "The Sweeter the Juice" by Mark Henry. Zombies are disgusting, but I was way squicked before the first walking dead even appeared on the scene. A one, just because there are no zeroes.
Jaye Wells is another new-to-me author, as far as I can remember at the moment. I didn't really like "The Werewife," to be honest. There was no joy anywhere in this story. There wasn't even a hint that perhaps the couple in the story had been happy together at one time. Both of them seemed pretty miserable, and I didn't like the way it ended. It didn't seem like there was any way to give them a happy ending, but that ending didn't feel "true." It gets a two, and that's only to set it apart from the previous story.
"The Cold Girl" by Rachel Caine is about an abusive teen relationship. Oh, and vampires. I'm not a Caine fan, but this story was better than some of her other work. Again, too dark for my tastes. If half stars were possible, it would have one. I'll be nice and round up to three.
The name Allison Pang sounds familiar, so maybe I've read something by her in the past. If I did, I'm certain that it wasn't set in the same world as "A Duet With Darkness," which says it is an Abby Sinclair story. I found the main character to be an annoying, immature twit, but I'm a sucker for fiction with musical influences. The music is well-done here. I don't know if I will read anything more by Ms. Pang or not - I suppose that depends on whether or not her other work has better characters and is also musical. This one gets a four.
I found "Recession of the Divine" by Hillary Jacques fascinating. The Greek inspiration was unusual. I didn't really buy the customers being quite so unquestioning of Ophelia's state, but it wasn't a major complaint overall. I was highly disappointed to find nothing but a credit in another anthology for her. But! Reading the author profiles at the end of the book pays off, because that's how I learned that she also writes as Regan Summers. Now her works published under that name are on my to-read shelf. Another five.
Jennifer Estep's "Parlor Tricks" was actually released free on Amazon a little while back to promote Carniepunk, so it was the first story I read. I enjoy the Elemental Assassin series in general, and this story is no exception. Again, knowledge of the series is not required to understand the story, and the story is not vital to the series. It is a nice little sample, though, and I enjoyed seeing Gin and Bria having a sisterly outing. I'm probably biased, but it gets a five.
I liked Kelly Meding's "Freak House" a lot, and her name sounded familiar, but the story was set in the "Strays" universe, which I was certain I had never heard of before. I actually stirred myself to look her up, and learned that I've had one of her books on my to-read list for ages, and Strays is a new series she's just starting. Djinn, werewolves, vampires, pixies, harpies, leprechauns, skinwalkers, and more, some "out" to humans, some living hidden - what's not to love? This one gets a four.
Nicole Peeler us yet another author who sounded vaguely familiar to me, and yep, there is one of her books on my to-read list (yes, it is massive, why do you ask?). It is, in fact, the first of the Jane True books, and "The Inside Man" is set in that world. Peeler's writing style dies not flow for me, but I liked Capitola Jones and her friends Shar and Moo. As clowns are indisputably evil, I had little to complain about in the story. It gets a three.
Succubus (former?) Jezzie is the main character in Jackie Kessler's story "A Chance in Hell." Obviously, the story is set her Hell on Earth series. I had to look that up, though, because while I know you're shocked, her name did not ring any bells for me. I don't actually have ALL the urban fantasy books on my to-read or read lists! The piece opens with a confusing remark about a demon eating Jezebel's face, when that definitely is not the anatomy in question. If that's a common euphemism, it is wholly new to me. Within the next couple of pages there are multiple references to the fact that she has fallen in love with a human since becoming mortal, but absolutely no explanation of how she would reconcile sex with an incubus with her human love. As much as I would prefer that it were not the case, the default assumption in our society is that people are monogamous. Therefore, when there is a deviation from that norm, the reader expects - something. Is it supposed to demonstrate that the fictional society is different? Is the character in an explicitly non-monogamous relationship? Is her love unrequited? Is the guy dead? Do demons not count? Is she just a skanky ho? Then this great love isn't mentioned again for the rest of the story, so none of the questions raised are answered. Oh. There is, in fact, a plot here, but I was so annoyed by that stuff that I almost failed to notice it. Demonic circus, yo. The whole demon thing reminds me too much of another series I've read in the past. I can't even remember the author's name, much less the title, right now, but Kessler's work feels derivative. She gets a two.
Next up is Kelly Gay - Hey look! Another author whose name I don't recognize! - with "Hell's Menagerie," a Charlie Madigan short story. Okay, this series is set in an alternate Atlanta. As an Atlanta girl, that certainly gets my attention. And Charlie is a single mother. I don't recall any other single mothers in the UF world right off. (Kate Daniels doesn't quite count, because she adopted her daughter as a teen. Although it is interesting to note that Kate is also Atlanta-based.) I was ready to like this one, based solely on what I knew of the series. Then there was a grammatical error on the second page of the story that set my teeth on edge, one which could not be chalked up to a character's voice. Add in the fact that we get a fast, "and also, Jim" style introduction to Charlie (who isn't even present in the story!), Rex, and Emma in less than two pages, and I am officially annoyed. It isn't an old matinee movie, so surely that information could have been worked in a little more naturally? Emma won me over. Mostly. There's some, "Not another super-gifted kid," reaction, but I guess if the mother is supposed to be all that it's to be expected that the daughter might be special, too. Hmm. A three.
The last piece is Seaman McGuire's "Daughter of the Midway, the Mermaid, and the Open, Lonely, Sea." Is that title a mouthful, or what? It has the feel of a Toby Daye story, although it isn't subtitled as such, and there are no fae so maybe it isn't in that universe at all. As there are other stories in the book that are set in the same world as their author's series, yet not marked in any way, lack of a subtitle can't be taken as a negative indicator, though. In any case, the story is poignant, which I've come to expect from McGuire. I didn't really like it, but I didn't dislike it, either. I couldn't "feel" Ada in any true sense. I have the same problem with Toby. A three at best.
Overall, the book was decent. The ratings only average out to 3.21, but I'm very glad to have read the stories by Hearne and Estep. Discovering Jacques/Summers was absolutely worthwhile. I really hate that I read as much of Henry's story as I did. If I could delete that from my memory, it would probably raise the rating for everything else.
Rob Thurman's "Painted Love" opens the book. It is dark, but to be fair it isn't quite as dark as the only Thurman novel I've read, from the Cal Leandros series. I rather liked the twist. I adored the fiercely protective older sister, especially the way she is described. I'll rate this one at three.
I don't believe I've ever read anything by Delilah S. Dawson before, certainly not anything in the Blud universe, so I had no idea what to expect from "The Three Lives of Lydia." It was a far darker story than I would generally choose to read. I found the male love interest highly appealing. The portrayal of mental illness was horrific. I found it interesting that Dawson is an Atlantan as well as a fellow geeky mom, but I'm sure that I've never heard of her before. She does have a book coming out next year that looks promising, so I may give it a read. This one's a two.
Then there is the Iron Druid story! "The Demon Barker of Wheat Street" is set a few books back in the series' chronology (two weeks after "Two Ravens and One Crow"), so Granuaille isn't yet a full Druid. To make things even more interesting, Atticus accidentally offended the local elemental many years ago, so his magic doesn't work as well as usual in the area. The story isn't vital to the series, and knowledge of the series isn't necessary for enjoying it. Hearne's fans definitely won't want to miss it, though, and it could be used as a nice little taste of his style for new readers. Definitely a five.
I couldn't make it through "The Sweeter the Juice" by Mark Henry. Zombies are disgusting, but I was way squicked before the first walking dead even appeared on the scene. A one, just because there are no zeroes.
Jaye Wells is another new-to-me author, as far as I can remember at the moment. I didn't really like "The Werewife," to be honest. There was no joy anywhere in this story. There wasn't even a hint that perhaps the couple in the story had been happy together at one time. Both of them seemed pretty miserable, and I didn't like the way it ended. It didn't seem like there was any way to give them a happy ending, but that ending didn't feel "true." It gets a two, and that's only to set it apart from the previous story.
"The Cold Girl" by Rachel Caine is about an abusive teen relationship. Oh, and vampires. I'm not a Caine fan, but this story was better than some of her other work. Again, too dark for my tastes. If half stars were possible, it would have one. I'll be nice and round up to three.
The name Allison Pang sounds familiar, so maybe I've read something by her in the past. If I did, I'm certain that it wasn't set in the same world as "A Duet With Darkness," which says it is an Abby Sinclair story. I found the main character to be an annoying, immature twit, but I'm a sucker for fiction with musical influences. The music is well-done here. I don't know if I will read anything more by Ms. Pang or not - I suppose that depends on whether or not her other work has better characters and is also musical. This one gets a four.
I found "Recession of the Divine" by Hillary Jacques fascinating. The Greek inspiration was unusual. I didn't really buy the customers being quite so unquestioning of Ophelia's state, but it wasn't a major complaint overall. I was highly disappointed to find nothing but a credit in another anthology for her. But! Reading the author profiles at the end of the book pays off, because that's how I learned that she also writes as Regan Summers. Now her works published under that name are on my to-read shelf. Another five.
Jennifer Estep's "Parlor Tricks" was actually released free on Amazon a little while back to promote Carniepunk, so it was the first story I read. I enjoy the Elemental Assassin series in general, and this story is no exception. Again, knowledge of the series is not required to understand the story, and the story is not vital to the series. It is a nice little sample, though, and I enjoyed seeing Gin and Bria having a sisterly outing. I'm probably biased, but it gets a five.
I liked Kelly Meding's "Freak House" a lot, and her name sounded familiar, but the story was set in the "Strays" universe, which I was certain I had never heard of before. I actually stirred myself to look her up, and learned that I've had one of her books on my to-read list for ages, and Strays is a new series she's just starting. Djinn, werewolves, vampires, pixies, harpies, leprechauns, skinwalkers, and more, some "out" to humans, some living hidden - what's not to love? This one gets a four.
Nicole Peeler us yet another author who sounded vaguely familiar to me, and yep, there is one of her books on my to-read list (yes, it is massive, why do you ask?). It is, in fact, the first of the Jane True books, and "The Inside Man" is set in that world. Peeler's writing style dies not flow for me, but I liked Capitola Jones and her friends Shar and Moo. As clowns are indisputably evil, I had little to complain about in the story. It gets a three.
Succubus (former?) Jezzie is the main character in Jackie Kessler's story "A Chance in Hell." Obviously, the story is set her Hell on Earth series. I had to look that up, though, because while I know you're shocked, her name did not ring any bells for me. I don't actually have ALL the urban fantasy books on my to-read or read lists! The piece opens with a confusing remark about a demon eating Jezebel's face, when that definitely is not the anatomy in question. If that's a common euphemism, it is wholly new to me. Within the next couple of pages there are multiple references to the fact that she has fallen in love with a human since becoming mortal, but absolutely no explanation of how she would reconcile sex with an incubus with her human love. As much as I would prefer that it were not the case, the default assumption in our society is that people are monogamous. Therefore, when there is a deviation from that norm, the reader expects - something. Is it supposed to demonstrate that the fictional society is different? Is the character in an explicitly non-monogamous relationship? Is her love unrequited? Is the guy dead? Do demons not count? Is she just a skanky ho? Then this great love isn't mentioned again for the rest of the story, so none of the questions raised are answered. Oh. There is, in fact, a plot here, but I was so annoyed by that stuff that I almost failed to notice it. Demonic circus, yo. The whole demon thing reminds me too much of another series I've read in the past. I can't even remember the author's name, much less the title, right now, but Kessler's work feels derivative. She gets a two.
Next up is Kelly Gay - Hey look! Another author whose name I don't recognize! - with "Hell's Menagerie," a Charlie Madigan short story. Okay, this series is set in an alternate Atlanta. As an Atlanta girl, that certainly gets my attention. And Charlie is a single mother. I don't recall any other single mothers in the UF world right off. (Kate Daniels doesn't quite count, because she adopted her daughter as a teen. Although it is interesting to note that Kate is also Atlanta-based.) I was ready to like this one, based solely on what I knew of the series. Then there was a grammatical error on the second page of the story that set my teeth on edge, one which could not be chalked up to a character's voice. Add in the fact that we get a fast, "and also, Jim" style introduction to Charlie (who isn't even present in the story!), Rex, and Emma in less than two pages, and I am officially annoyed. It isn't an old matinee movie, so surely that information could have been worked in a little more naturally? Emma won me over. Mostly. There's some, "Not another super-gifted kid," reaction, but I guess if the mother is supposed to be all that it's to be expected that the daughter might be special, too. Hmm. A three.
The last piece is Seaman McGuire's "Daughter of the Midway, the Mermaid, and the Open, Lonely, Sea." Is that title a mouthful, or what? It has the feel of a Toby Daye story, although it isn't subtitled as such, and there are no fae so maybe it isn't in that universe at all. As there are other stories in the book that are set in the same world as their author's series, yet not marked in any way, lack of a subtitle can't be taken as a negative indicator, though. In any case, the story is poignant, which I've come to expect from McGuire. I didn't really like it, but I didn't dislike it, either. I couldn't "feel" Ada in any true sense. I have the same problem with Toby. A three at best.
Overall, the book was decent. The ratings only average out to 3.21, but I'm very glad to have read the stories by Hearne and Estep. Discovering Jacques/Summers was absolutely worthwhile. I really hate that I read as much of Henry's story as I did. If I could delete that from my memory, it would probably raise the rating for everything else.
honingwords (32 KP) rated No Good Reason in Books
Jul 5, 2018
Cari Hunter is most definitely as top notch a writer as you are going to find in crime/thriller writing.
Cari Hunter’s Dark Peak crime series, starting with No Good Reason, was recommended to me by a Lesfic author. I reckon you have to be pretty good for your peers to claim you are ‘top notch’ and after reading four of her books in quick succession I can guarantee that Cari is most definitely as top notch a writer as you are going to find in crime/thriller writing.
Let me admit to you that I generally find crime novels too much hard work to follow. I like my books to be romances, and the sexier the better. I’m surprised as all get out to find I love Cari’s thrilling ride through these Police stroke Hospital novels. Especially as there is almost no juicy sex to lubricate the grit. The infrequency of sex scenes is because the main characters, Sanne and Meg, aren’t officially a couple. Or maybe they are. It’s entirely possible everyone knows they are, except themselves.
The story isn't necessarily about their sexual tension, but it was always in the back of my mind that they would see sense in the end and I patiently waited them out.
I have found in the last few years that there are many padded-out books on the market by well-respected authors, where you can skip through whole pages at a time without losing any real sense of the plot. Not so with No Good Reason which kept me riveted through each paragraph and exquisite word right from the tense prologue.
Cari definitely makes every single word count and I felt engaged in the story and with her main characters within the first few pages.
I’d already read Snowbound, which was a fantastic debut novel, but the characters in No Good Reason are one smidge more sophisticatedly written.
Sanne and Meg go back a very long time, from before their first kiss at the age of twelve, and they know each other better than they know themselves. They have generated a world around them where they are each others’ support and comfort. They are BFFs, they are Friends With Benefits, but somehow Cari has written them as even more than these things. They are each others’ absolute other halves.
These two girls have aches and bruises, and tears and emotions, and genuine exhaustion from their ridiculously long work hours.
They do things like accidentally drop perishable shopping on the floor, but eat it anyway; burn their tea; and turn the shower off when the toilet flushes for fear of being scalded.
I love details like these. I love that they can have a discussion about putting the bins out and HobNobs can fall in their tea the same as they do for you and me, without making the whole book boring and mundane. It simply endears the characters to me all the more.
They made me smile a lot. Meg prefers ham and quaver butties, for goodness sake, what’s not to love?
It doesn’t take long for Cari to completely draw you into their world in Northern England, around the Manchester area, and mainly in the Peak District which is where Cari lives and I feel like I have travelled the hills and crunched the snow and tramped through the same streets as she has now.
This area has its own accent, Northern English, and it is noticeable that she uses phrases and words particular to there. I can’t remember which words I picked up on first, probably some dialogue, but you quickly become used to the fact this is not written by an American. It’s refreshing to have only regional UK main characters: no Londoners; no Americans.
Don’t let the idea of a local accent and local characters put you off, there is nothing in the book you wouldn’t understand, it is still all ‘plain English’ and if you come across a word you can’t decipher I will more than happily translate for you!
Other than the almost-a-romance-but-so-much-more between the two girls there is also this whole other kidnapping / crime malarkey going on. Sanne is a little too personally involved in the case right from the beginning, being caught up in the initial rescue of the victim. She and her police partner, the sensitive, caring, supportive, gorgeously written Nelson, are embroiled in working the case together. Needless to say they spend a lot of time visiting Meg in her role as A&E Doctor in the local hospital for one reason or another. Nelson is a beautiful soul and just the kind of partner Sanne needs, but that writers seldom allow their straight characters to be, especially in Police fiction.
The kidnapping plot is fast paced and exciting. The characters on both sides of the investigation were all believable and there was an audible ‘Huh!’ out of me with the final twist at the end. I really didn’t see that coming. Such a simple way to pull the whole plot together. Chilling!
Cari has a remarkable flair for descriptive writing and she pays particular attention to details like sounds and how things feel against skin. You are left in no doubt every time a character is sore, almost feeling the pain and peeling off the scabs with them.
Sometimes you have to reread a passage to understand the gist of what an author means, or furrow your brow over a combination of words because they just don’t make sense or even belong together, but with Cari Hunter the only thing I can point out to her is ‘Try feeding goldfinches niger seeds instead of nuts.’ That’s it. No other tweaking or corrections required. Nothing. Cari Hunter writes sheer perfection.
My favourite line in the book is the first one I stopped at, blinked appreciatively and re-read.
“Sanne ran her fingertips across the gritstone, letting it wear away her skin like an over-keen emery board.”
From that point on I knew I was going to love not only the book, but also Cari’s style and I wasn’t disappointed with further chapters.
I have a simple test for new authors, to find out how much I like them. The test is ‘how sick has this author made me?’ By that I mean - how long did they keep me awake reading when I ought to have been asleep for work the next day. If I am awake too long it makes me sick for several days after - it shouldn’t be something I am proud of but
Let me admit to you that I generally find crime novels too much hard work to follow. I like my books to be romances, and the sexier the better. I’m surprised as all get out to find I love Cari’s thrilling ride through these Police stroke Hospital novels. Especially as there is almost no juicy sex to lubricate the grit. The infrequency of sex scenes is because the main characters, Sanne and Meg, aren’t officially a couple. Or maybe they are. It’s entirely possible everyone knows they are, except themselves.
The story isn't necessarily about their sexual tension, but it was always in the back of my mind that they would see sense in the end and I patiently waited them out.
I have found in the last few years that there are many padded-out books on the market by well-respected authors, where you can skip through whole pages at a time without losing any real sense of the plot. Not so with No Good Reason which kept me riveted through each paragraph and exquisite word right from the tense prologue.
Cari definitely makes every single word count and I felt engaged in the story and with her main characters within the first few pages.
I’d already read Snowbound, which was a fantastic debut novel, but the characters in No Good Reason are one smidge more sophisticatedly written.
Sanne and Meg go back a very long time, from before their first kiss at the age of twelve, and they know each other better than they know themselves. They have generated a world around them where they are each others’ support and comfort. They are BFFs, they are Friends With Benefits, but somehow Cari has written them as even more than these things. They are each others’ absolute other halves.
These two girls have aches and bruises, and tears and emotions, and genuine exhaustion from their ridiculously long work hours.
They do things like accidentally drop perishable shopping on the floor, but eat it anyway; burn their tea; and turn the shower off when the toilet flushes for fear of being scalded.
I love details like these. I love that they can have a discussion about putting the bins out and HobNobs can fall in their tea the same as they do for you and me, without making the whole book boring and mundane. It simply endears the characters to me all the more.
They made me smile a lot. Meg prefers ham and quaver butties, for goodness sake, what’s not to love?
It doesn’t take long for Cari to completely draw you into their world in Northern England, around the Manchester area, and mainly in the Peak District which is where Cari lives and I feel like I have travelled the hills and crunched the snow and tramped through the same streets as she has now.
This area has its own accent, Northern English, and it is noticeable that she uses phrases and words particular to there. I can’t remember which words I picked up on first, probably some dialogue, but you quickly become used to the fact this is not written by an American. It’s refreshing to have only regional UK main characters: no Londoners; no Americans.
Don’t let the idea of a local accent and local characters put you off, there is nothing in the book you wouldn’t understand, it is still all ‘plain English’ and if you come across a word you can’t decipher I will more than happily translate for you!
Other than the almost-a-romance-but-so-much-more between the two girls there is also this whole other kidnapping / crime malarkey going on. Sanne is a little too personally involved in the case right from the beginning, being caught up in the initial rescue of the victim. She and her police partner, the sensitive, caring, supportive, gorgeously written Nelson, are embroiled in working the case together. Needless to say they spend a lot of time visiting Meg in her role as A&E Doctor in the local hospital for one reason or another. Nelson is a beautiful soul and just the kind of partner Sanne needs, but that writers seldom allow their straight characters to be, especially in Police fiction.
The kidnapping plot is fast paced and exciting. The characters on both sides of the investigation were all believable and there was an audible ‘Huh!’ out of me with the final twist at the end. I really didn’t see that coming. Such a simple way to pull the whole plot together. Chilling!
Cari has a remarkable flair for descriptive writing and she pays particular attention to details like sounds and how things feel against skin. You are left in no doubt every time a character is sore, almost feeling the pain and peeling off the scabs with them.
Sometimes you have to reread a passage to understand the gist of what an author means, or furrow your brow over a combination of words because they just don’t make sense or even belong together, but with Cari Hunter the only thing I can point out to her is ‘Try feeding goldfinches niger seeds instead of nuts.’ That’s it. No other tweaking or corrections required. Nothing. Cari Hunter writes sheer perfection.
My favourite line in the book is the first one I stopped at, blinked appreciatively and re-read.
“Sanne ran her fingertips across the gritstone, letting it wear away her skin like an over-keen emery board.”
From that point on I knew I was going to love not only the book, but also Cari’s style and I wasn’t disappointed with further chapters.
I have a simple test for new authors, to find out how much I like them. The test is ‘how sick has this author made me?’ By that I mean - how long did they keep me awake reading when I ought to have been asleep for work the next day. If I am awake too long it makes me sick for several days after - it shouldn’t be something I am proud of but
EmersonRose (320 KP) rated The Buried Giant in Books
Nov 20, 2019
The winner of the 2017 Nobel Prize for Literature, Kazuo Ishiguro was born in 1954 in Nagasaki Japan, but he and his family moved in England in 1960. These two places and cultures have profoundly affected Ishiguro’s writing throughout his career. His first book, A Pale View of Hills, was published in 1982 and won the Winifred Holtby Memorial Prize, and he has since written seven novels and numerous short stories. His most recent book was The Buried Giant in 2015.
It is hard to pinpoint a genre to which Kazuo Ishiguro sticks to as he writes in fantasy, science-fiction, and historical. It can be said that all of his novels have the feeling of being set in the past even when the time period is not explicitly described, but the core theme that connects all of his writing together is memory. In each of his stories, Ishiguro examines how people use memory, how memory affects people, and who we are with or without memory.
Ishiguro explores many different ways in which memory affects people throughout his books ranging from memory loss to dream like memory distortion. In his books Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day the stories are told by narrators looking back at crucial moments in their lives. In letting us know that they are remembering their own pasts they admit that they are saying their perspective and their memory might be lacking. In this way letting the reader know that they are unreliable narrators. In The Remains of the Day the narrator, the butler Mr. Stevens decides to go on a journey to visit an old friend and along the way shows his unreliability in several ways. First in acknowledging how memory can change and fade over time.
“It occurs to me that elsewhere in attempting to gather such recollections, I may well have asserted that this memory derived from the minute immediately after Miss Kenton receiving news of her aunt’s death….But now, having thought further, I believed I may have been a little confused about this matter; that in fact, this fragment of memory derives from events that took place on an evening at least a few months after the death of Miss Kenton’s aunt” (212).
In this way, Steven’s is acknowledging human error which both shows his unreliability but gives a level of trust in the acknowledgment that he is doing his best to be truthful. This, however, is challenged because Steven’s informs us that he lies, at the very least through omission, to other characters. A clear case of this is when he allows himself to be considered a gentleman rather than a butler on several occasions throughout his journey. This becomes complex because he is allowing the reader in on the truth, but the very fact of admitting that he can lie further reveals his unreliability.
In Ishiguro’s most recent book, The Buried Giant, he looks at memory in a way that is similar to these previous stories but takes a new approach. His central two characters in this book, Axle, and Beatrice are an elderly couple setting out on a journey with almost no memory of who they are. Throughout the story, they remember or think they remember pieces of their pasts and in the process making them question who they really are. This uncertainty in themselves creates interesting questions of whether or not they want to remember their lives if they are happier not knowing, and if they can continue to live their lives the way they are with their new/old information?
“Yet are you so certain, good mistress, you wish to be free of this mist? Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?”
“It may be for some, father, but not for us. Axl and I wish to have again the happy moments we shared together. To be robbed of them is as if a thief came in the night and took what’s most precious from us.”
“Yet the mist covers all memories, the bad as well as the good. Isn’t that so, mistress?”
“We’ll have the bad ones come back too, even if they make us weep or shake with anger. For isn’t it the life we’ve shared?” (172).
In some of Ishiguro’s other work, he chooses to explore memory through the lens of a dreamlike state or surreal views, such as his short story A Village After Dark and the novel The Unconsoled. In these stories, the narrator enters into a new place and finds that they have slowly emerging memories connected to the places and people they meet. The Unconsoled creates a strange dynamic where the lead character Mr. Ryder has never been to this town before but finds himself confronted by childhood acquaintances as well as meeting a woman and child who treat him like husband and father and memories that support this begin to come back to him. In an interview Ishiguro did on the book in 1995, he summarizes the story as “an anxiety dream” as Mr. Ryder continually finds himself confronted with the expectation of him without being told anything in advance. At the beginning of the story, Mr. Ryder arrives at his hotel knowing that he will be playing at a concert in few days and is told he has a busy schedule up till then. At this point in the story, the anxiety dream state sets in Mr. Ryder continuously finds himself late to engagements, leaving people behind by accident and being dragged around town. As the story progresses, Mr. Ryder begins to have memories of a past associated with some of the people he has met, despite being introduced as completely new to the town. Some of these can be explained by the fact that as a reader we are dropped into a story after it has started but the memories of these instances only come back to Ryder after he has been told things have happened. This means that throughout the story it impossible to know whether or not the narrator has forgotten and is remembering or if the town is merely a dream limbo and nothing he is being told is real, to begin with.
Whether taking the more fantastical approach or the those that fall closer to realism, Ishiguro’s play with memory remains relatable to the readers. Each journey Ishiguro writes is designed to tackle something different about memory. The stories ask us questions about what memory and how much it affects who we are and our ability to live in our world. From whether or not we can know who we are without memory to how trustworthy our memories actually are. These questions, however fantastically asked, offer something to the reader that they can relate to. For memory is almost a fanatical force on its own that we all share and try to understand. It can play with us when we take it for granted and offer vulnerability and connection when shared with others. Ishiguro delves into these ideas in each of his works, ever exploring its uncertainty and power.
It is hard to pinpoint a genre to which Kazuo Ishiguro sticks to as he writes in fantasy, science-fiction, and historical. It can be said that all of his novels have the feeling of being set in the past even when the time period is not explicitly described, but the core theme that connects all of his writing together is memory. In each of his stories, Ishiguro examines how people use memory, how memory affects people, and who we are with or without memory.
Ishiguro explores many different ways in which memory affects people throughout his books ranging from memory loss to dream like memory distortion. In his books Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day the stories are told by narrators looking back at crucial moments in their lives. In letting us know that they are remembering their own pasts they admit that they are saying their perspective and their memory might be lacking. In this way letting the reader know that they are unreliable narrators. In The Remains of the Day the narrator, the butler Mr. Stevens decides to go on a journey to visit an old friend and along the way shows his unreliability in several ways. First in acknowledging how memory can change and fade over time.
“It occurs to me that elsewhere in attempting to gather such recollections, I may well have asserted that this memory derived from the minute immediately after Miss Kenton receiving news of her aunt’s death….But now, having thought further, I believed I may have been a little confused about this matter; that in fact, this fragment of memory derives from events that took place on an evening at least a few months after the death of Miss Kenton’s aunt” (212).
In this way, Steven’s is acknowledging human error which both shows his unreliability but gives a level of trust in the acknowledgment that he is doing his best to be truthful. This, however, is challenged because Steven’s informs us that he lies, at the very least through omission, to other characters. A clear case of this is when he allows himself to be considered a gentleman rather than a butler on several occasions throughout his journey. This becomes complex because he is allowing the reader in on the truth, but the very fact of admitting that he can lie further reveals his unreliability.
In Ishiguro’s most recent book, The Buried Giant, he looks at memory in a way that is similar to these previous stories but takes a new approach. His central two characters in this book, Axle, and Beatrice are an elderly couple setting out on a journey with almost no memory of who they are. Throughout the story, they remember or think they remember pieces of their pasts and in the process making them question who they really are. This uncertainty in themselves creates interesting questions of whether or not they want to remember their lives if they are happier not knowing, and if they can continue to live their lives the way they are with their new/old information?
“Yet are you so certain, good mistress, you wish to be free of this mist? Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?”
“It may be for some, father, but not for us. Axl and I wish to have again the happy moments we shared together. To be robbed of them is as if a thief came in the night and took what’s most precious from us.”
“Yet the mist covers all memories, the bad as well as the good. Isn’t that so, mistress?”
“We’ll have the bad ones come back too, even if they make us weep or shake with anger. For isn’t it the life we’ve shared?” (172).
In some of Ishiguro’s other work, he chooses to explore memory through the lens of a dreamlike state or surreal views, such as his short story A Village After Dark and the novel The Unconsoled. In these stories, the narrator enters into a new place and finds that they have slowly emerging memories connected to the places and people they meet. The Unconsoled creates a strange dynamic where the lead character Mr. Ryder has never been to this town before but finds himself confronted by childhood acquaintances as well as meeting a woman and child who treat him like husband and father and memories that support this begin to come back to him. In an interview Ishiguro did on the book in 1995, he summarizes the story as “an anxiety dream” as Mr. Ryder continually finds himself confronted with the expectation of him without being told anything in advance. At the beginning of the story, Mr. Ryder arrives at his hotel knowing that he will be playing at a concert in few days and is told he has a busy schedule up till then. At this point in the story, the anxiety dream state sets in Mr. Ryder continuously finds himself late to engagements, leaving people behind by accident and being dragged around town. As the story progresses, Mr. Ryder begins to have memories of a past associated with some of the people he has met, despite being introduced as completely new to the town. Some of these can be explained by the fact that as a reader we are dropped into a story after it has started but the memories of these instances only come back to Ryder after he has been told things have happened. This means that throughout the story it impossible to know whether or not the narrator has forgotten and is remembering or if the town is merely a dream limbo and nothing he is being told is real, to begin with.
Whether taking the more fantastical approach or the those that fall closer to realism, Ishiguro’s play with memory remains relatable to the readers. Each journey Ishiguro writes is designed to tackle something different about memory. The stories ask us questions about what memory and how much it affects who we are and our ability to live in our world. From whether or not we can know who we are without memory to how trustworthy our memories actually are. These questions, however fantastically asked, offer something to the reader that they can relate to. For memory is almost a fanatical force on its own that we all share and try to understand. It can play with us when we take it for granted and offer vulnerability and connection when shared with others. Ishiguro delves into these ideas in each of his works, ever exploring its uncertainty and power.
Gareth von Kallenbach (965 KP) rated Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (2012) in Movies
Aug 7, 2019
How many times have you seen this premise played out in film or other forms of entertainment: The world is going to end and there’s one last ditch plan or effort to save it (It inevitably succeeds, of course!); alternatively, the world has ended already and we’re left with post-apocalyptic society picking up the pieces. The premise is everywhere; the fascination with the end of days has been evident throughout our popular culture for decades. Yet, the thing about these two premises is that it avoids a (quite large) important question about the nature of the situation. What if our last ditch effort doesn’t succeed? What if there is no post-apocalyptic setting giving us hope for a re-built future. “Seeking a Friend for the End of the World”, a brand new film directed and written by Lorene Scafaria (“Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist”) attempts to focus on that gap often glossed over by apocalyptic fiction. It assumes there is no hope, there is a conclusion, and how do we deal with that?
It’s a comedy drama that pokes fun of the absurdity of a monotonous society coping with the conclusion of all civilization, while interweaving a touching romance between two people with broken pasts and deep regrets. Yet, it is a movie with some notable flaws, mainly in how it focuses its attention.
The premise is fairly simple, and rightly so. There is a large asteroid named “Matilda” barreling towards Earth and its impact will wipe out all life on our beloved planet. The film starts with the announcement that the last chance for Earth’s survival, a space mission to destroy the asteroid, has failed due to a fire on board the vessel. With only three weeks left to live, insurance salesman Dodge Peterson (Steve Carell) must decide how to spend the rest of his life. He decides to chase down an old highschool sweetheart and is accompanied by his neighbor, Penny (Keira Knightley) who wishes to return home to see her family one last time. They meet several characters in their roadtrip journey through pre-apocalyptica, including characters played by Rob Corddry and Martin Sheen.
The simple premise seems familiar due to its subject matter (C’mon, it’s 2012. I’m surprised there hasn’t been even more apocalypse movies flooding the theaters). Yet, strangely it feels fresh simply in how it handles itself. As said, most movies focus on the last daring mission to save mankind from certain destruction, or assumes that certain destruction really isn’t the end. People like to see hope, they don’t want to be confined by fate. This movie takes a different approach. Right off the bat it basically tells you there is zero hope, zero chance of getting out of this mess. Now what do you do? This particular premise lets comedy shine for the first two acts of the movie. There are subtle jokes, like the absurdity of naming a rock about to destroy all of mankind “Matilda”.
There are more traditional joke set-ups, favoring quick joke-punchline material that is mostly laugh-out-loud funny. And there is a fair amount of dark humor, simple funniness in the absurdity of how people treat the end of days. People mowing their lawns, still cleaning houses, even cops who continue to pull people over all poke fun of how people cannot let go of even the most monotonous of tasks that define their lift – regardless of how pointless they are due to the situation. Or the people who just let go and want to spend their last days without care, throwing themselves into orgies, drugs or riots. However, the tone of the drama limits the humor of the movie, favoring those kinds of moderate laughs over hysterical or hilarious moments. That’s the underlying issue of the film: that it feels like the humor is constrained due to fear of it undermining its drama.
Those who expect a comedy movie will only get two-thirds of one. And those who expect a drama movie will get mostly one. By no means does it fail at comedy or drama, but it just does not strike that delicate balance to be both in the same setting. The last act of the movie almost completely drops the comedy in favor of a dramatic and romantic conclusion. It’s not a huge fault, because the writing, and well-paced relationship development between the two main protagonists (Dodge and Penny), means that their inevitable romance seems natural, honest, and believable. The comedy is really only around in the first two thirds of the movie to try and keep your attention away from the obvious conclusion to their story – the fact that they end up together (and, perhaps, another conclusion entirely). So, when it does eventually happen, even though it was obvious from the start that it would, it does feel very endearing. The natural chemistry between Steve Carell and Keira Knightley is quite good, so buying their romance is not difficult in the slightest.
Yet, even still, that underlying issue keeps coming back. The fact that the comedy feels like a tool to facilitate a good dramatic ending ,instead of natural focus of the movie, undermines the experience for those who want to get some laughs. If there was a more natural balance between the romantic elements and comedy elements throughout the whole movie and not just the first two thirds, it could bring forth much more powerful comedy and/or drama. That way those who desire comedy or romance would be delighted to get a good deal of both intertwined.
I commend the film for how it handles the subject matter of inevitability. Even though it pokes fun at absurdity and really garners good laughs, it always has this underlying sense of regret, sadness and dread. You’re always reminded in the back of your mind that the world is going to end, but it does a good enough job pulling you into the characters’ last struggle to piece together their lives after decades of failure and regret that you end up really wanting to see them pull through somehow. Its last act is especially poignant, and definitely emotionally strong. Even though the themes of throwing away your past in favor of a happier future (despite it being such a short future) are not well concealed, they still end up being particularly strong. A film that can really make you appreciate what you have outside the film and the limited time you have left to enjoy it has to be commended for making you think.
“Seeking a Friend for the End of the World” is a fairly powerful romance drama that focuses on how people deal with loss, regret and the prospect of inevitable fate. More importantly, though, is that it focuses on how people can build something profoundly beautiful even in the last moments of their lives – regardless of their pasts or (lack) of future prospects. It has comedy in the movie, but it never really shines nor intertwines with the drama. They almost feel like two separate elements that struggle to mix together. Yet, the comedy is mostly laugh-out-loud funny and the drama is quite poignant and endearing. It definitely had the potential to make us laugh to tears or even bring us to tears through drama, but instead it settles for simply making us laugh and reflect.
It’s a comedy drama that pokes fun of the absurdity of a monotonous society coping with the conclusion of all civilization, while interweaving a touching romance between two people with broken pasts and deep regrets. Yet, it is a movie with some notable flaws, mainly in how it focuses its attention.
The premise is fairly simple, and rightly so. There is a large asteroid named “Matilda” barreling towards Earth and its impact will wipe out all life on our beloved planet. The film starts with the announcement that the last chance for Earth’s survival, a space mission to destroy the asteroid, has failed due to a fire on board the vessel. With only three weeks left to live, insurance salesman Dodge Peterson (Steve Carell) must decide how to spend the rest of his life. He decides to chase down an old highschool sweetheart and is accompanied by his neighbor, Penny (Keira Knightley) who wishes to return home to see her family one last time. They meet several characters in their roadtrip journey through pre-apocalyptica, including characters played by Rob Corddry and Martin Sheen.
The simple premise seems familiar due to its subject matter (C’mon, it’s 2012. I’m surprised there hasn’t been even more apocalypse movies flooding the theaters). Yet, strangely it feels fresh simply in how it handles itself. As said, most movies focus on the last daring mission to save mankind from certain destruction, or assumes that certain destruction really isn’t the end. People like to see hope, they don’t want to be confined by fate. This movie takes a different approach. Right off the bat it basically tells you there is zero hope, zero chance of getting out of this mess. Now what do you do? This particular premise lets comedy shine for the first two acts of the movie. There are subtle jokes, like the absurdity of naming a rock about to destroy all of mankind “Matilda”.
There are more traditional joke set-ups, favoring quick joke-punchline material that is mostly laugh-out-loud funny. And there is a fair amount of dark humor, simple funniness in the absurdity of how people treat the end of days. People mowing their lawns, still cleaning houses, even cops who continue to pull people over all poke fun of how people cannot let go of even the most monotonous of tasks that define their lift – regardless of how pointless they are due to the situation. Or the people who just let go and want to spend their last days without care, throwing themselves into orgies, drugs or riots. However, the tone of the drama limits the humor of the movie, favoring those kinds of moderate laughs over hysterical or hilarious moments. That’s the underlying issue of the film: that it feels like the humor is constrained due to fear of it undermining its drama.
Those who expect a comedy movie will only get two-thirds of one. And those who expect a drama movie will get mostly one. By no means does it fail at comedy or drama, but it just does not strike that delicate balance to be both in the same setting. The last act of the movie almost completely drops the comedy in favor of a dramatic and romantic conclusion. It’s not a huge fault, because the writing, and well-paced relationship development between the two main protagonists (Dodge and Penny), means that their inevitable romance seems natural, honest, and believable. The comedy is really only around in the first two thirds of the movie to try and keep your attention away from the obvious conclusion to their story – the fact that they end up together (and, perhaps, another conclusion entirely). So, when it does eventually happen, even though it was obvious from the start that it would, it does feel very endearing. The natural chemistry between Steve Carell and Keira Knightley is quite good, so buying their romance is not difficult in the slightest.
Yet, even still, that underlying issue keeps coming back. The fact that the comedy feels like a tool to facilitate a good dramatic ending ,instead of natural focus of the movie, undermines the experience for those who want to get some laughs. If there was a more natural balance between the romantic elements and comedy elements throughout the whole movie and not just the first two thirds, it could bring forth much more powerful comedy and/or drama. That way those who desire comedy or romance would be delighted to get a good deal of both intertwined.
I commend the film for how it handles the subject matter of inevitability. Even though it pokes fun at absurdity and really garners good laughs, it always has this underlying sense of regret, sadness and dread. You’re always reminded in the back of your mind that the world is going to end, but it does a good enough job pulling you into the characters’ last struggle to piece together their lives after decades of failure and regret that you end up really wanting to see them pull through somehow. Its last act is especially poignant, and definitely emotionally strong. Even though the themes of throwing away your past in favor of a happier future (despite it being such a short future) are not well concealed, they still end up being particularly strong. A film that can really make you appreciate what you have outside the film and the limited time you have left to enjoy it has to be commended for making you think.
“Seeking a Friend for the End of the World” is a fairly powerful romance drama that focuses on how people deal with loss, regret and the prospect of inevitable fate. More importantly, though, is that it focuses on how people can build something profoundly beautiful even in the last moments of their lives – regardless of their pasts or (lack) of future prospects. It has comedy in the movie, but it never really shines nor intertwines with the drama. They almost feel like two separate elements that struggle to mix together. Yet, the comedy is mostly laugh-out-loud funny and the drama is quite poignant and endearing. It definitely had the potential to make us laugh to tears or even bring us to tears through drama, but instead it settles for simply making us laugh and reflect.