Search
Search results
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated Adrift (2018) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
“Hurricane Raymond has been upgraded to a category 5”
“Should we be worried” says Tami. Well, yes dear, you really should.
In the glorious surroundings of Tahiti, the American footloose traveller Tami Oldham (Shailene Woodley, “Divergent trilogy“, “The Descendents) meets British footloose traveller Richard Sharp (Sam Claflin, “Journey’s End“, “Me Before You“) and a nautical-based love beckons. Richard is hired by his friends Peter (Jeffrey Thomas) and Christine (Elizabeth Hawthorne) to sail their luxury 44 foot yacht Hazana from Tahiti to Tami’s home city of San Diego. But they hadn’t reckoned on the decidedly un-romantic attentions of Raymond and severely battered and bruised it’s a battle for survival on the vast expanse of the Pacific.
I was intrigued by this film as it seems to have divided the professional critics’ opinions: Kevin Maher in The Times gave it five stars… five! Conversely Edward Porter in The Sunday Times gave it two stars. After seeing the film, I’m with Mr Maher on this one (breaking convention as I haven’t exactly been in tune with this reviewer recently!).
As a story with romantic undertones, the film will live or die on your belief in this aspect. And fortunately the romance works. There is real chemistry between the pair despite them striking you as an odd couple. This is in no small part to the quality of the acting: Claflin proves again that he is a safe pair of hands as a male lead, but it’s Shailene Woodley, who has to carry large portions of the film single-handedly, who again demonstrates just how excellent an actress she is. The camera of Tarentino favourite Robert Richardson (“The Hateful Eight“, “Django Unchained”) stays tightly on Woodley’s features dramatically capturing her tiniest of grimaces.
Woodley is also deliciously un-Hollywood, getting to where she has through acting talent as much as her looks. Yes, she has a great body (liberally, perhaps a tad lasciviously, featured here both above and under the water) but her face is gloriously assymettical with little wrinkles appearing unexpectedly when she grins. She’s a good role model for young girls that perfection is not a pre–requisite for success. (What’s perhaps less good, role-model-wise, is that Woodley allegedly ate only 350 calories a day to get to the emaciated state seen at the end of the film! But to compensate, it’s notable that she looks so much better/sexier at the start of the film than at the end).
It’s also interesting to note that the 27-year old Woodley is also a co-producer on the film, a sign perhaps that as well as being the ‘Meryl Streep of the future'(TM), she is also likely to become a significant mover and shaker in Hollywood when getting there.
A bit like “The Shallows“, it’s unapologetically a B movie, but it’s delivered with such style and chutzpah that it drives its way through the apallingly cheesy dialogue just as the poor Hazana bashes its way throught the mountainous seas. It’s even self-mocking, with Tami rolling her eyes at the corniness of Richard’s, very English, attempts at romantic dialogue. The script is more successful in establishing back-stories for Tami and Richard, demonstrating a degree of parallelism that perhaps better explains their mutual attraction. The irony of fate taking Tami back to her damaged past is exquisite.
A controversial and brave decision by Icelandic director Baltasar Kormákur is to constantly flashback between the survival scenes and Tami and Richard’s courtship that leads up to the cataclismic event. This can be a little distracting, but given the gut-wrenching twist in the third act a linear storytelling would simply have not worked. It’s very well done too, with matched cross-cuts that really work well. Kormákur’s previous film “Everest” was his biggest hit to date, and I noted the cheeky addition of the book “Everest” on the bookshelf on Richard’s boat! (As an aside, “Everest” is for some reason the film review on One Mann’s Movies that has been viewed more often than any other… no idea why… must be down to search engine results!)
Extraordinarily, it’s a true story with the closing frames of the film being genuinely moving.
With many similarities to the excellent Robert Redford thriller “All Is Lost”, this is a robust and enthralling thriller-cum-romance that unusually delivers on both counts. The romance is believable and the thrills suitably thrilling, especially when a panic-ridden Tami is separated from her one patch of dry land. Although slightly let down by some dodgy dialogue, sitting amongst all the big-hitter summer blockbusters this is a movie you should definitely seek out.
In the glorious surroundings of Tahiti, the American footloose traveller Tami Oldham (Shailene Woodley, “Divergent trilogy“, “The Descendents) meets British footloose traveller Richard Sharp (Sam Claflin, “Journey’s End“, “Me Before You“) and a nautical-based love beckons. Richard is hired by his friends Peter (Jeffrey Thomas) and Christine (Elizabeth Hawthorne) to sail their luxury 44 foot yacht Hazana from Tahiti to Tami’s home city of San Diego. But they hadn’t reckoned on the decidedly un-romantic attentions of Raymond and severely battered and bruised it’s a battle for survival on the vast expanse of the Pacific.
I was intrigued by this film as it seems to have divided the professional critics’ opinions: Kevin Maher in The Times gave it five stars… five! Conversely Edward Porter in The Sunday Times gave it two stars. After seeing the film, I’m with Mr Maher on this one (breaking convention as I haven’t exactly been in tune with this reviewer recently!).
As a story with romantic undertones, the film will live or die on your belief in this aspect. And fortunately the romance works. There is real chemistry between the pair despite them striking you as an odd couple. This is in no small part to the quality of the acting: Claflin proves again that he is a safe pair of hands as a male lead, but it’s Shailene Woodley, who has to carry large portions of the film single-handedly, who again demonstrates just how excellent an actress she is. The camera of Tarentino favourite Robert Richardson (“The Hateful Eight“, “Django Unchained”) stays tightly on Woodley’s features dramatically capturing her tiniest of grimaces.
Woodley is also deliciously un-Hollywood, getting to where she has through acting talent as much as her looks. Yes, she has a great body (liberally, perhaps a tad lasciviously, featured here both above and under the water) but her face is gloriously assymettical with little wrinkles appearing unexpectedly when she grins. She’s a good role model for young girls that perfection is not a pre–requisite for success. (What’s perhaps less good, role-model-wise, is that Woodley allegedly ate only 350 calories a day to get to the emaciated state seen at the end of the film! But to compensate, it’s notable that she looks so much better/sexier at the start of the film than at the end).
It’s also interesting to note that the 27-year old Woodley is also a co-producer on the film, a sign perhaps that as well as being the ‘Meryl Streep of the future'(TM), she is also likely to become a significant mover and shaker in Hollywood when getting there.
A bit like “The Shallows“, it’s unapologetically a B movie, but it’s delivered with such style and chutzpah that it drives its way through the apallingly cheesy dialogue just as the poor Hazana bashes its way throught the mountainous seas. It’s even self-mocking, with Tami rolling her eyes at the corniness of Richard’s, very English, attempts at romantic dialogue. The script is more successful in establishing back-stories for Tami and Richard, demonstrating a degree of parallelism that perhaps better explains their mutual attraction. The irony of fate taking Tami back to her damaged past is exquisite.
A controversial and brave decision by Icelandic director Baltasar Kormákur is to constantly flashback between the survival scenes and Tami and Richard’s courtship that leads up to the cataclismic event. This can be a little distracting, but given the gut-wrenching twist in the third act a linear storytelling would simply have not worked. It’s very well done too, with matched cross-cuts that really work well. Kormákur’s previous film “Everest” was his biggest hit to date, and I noted the cheeky addition of the book “Everest” on the bookshelf on Richard’s boat! (As an aside, “Everest” is for some reason the film review on One Mann’s Movies that has been viewed more often than any other… no idea why… must be down to search engine results!)
Extraordinarily, it’s a true story with the closing frames of the film being genuinely moving.
With many similarities to the excellent Robert Redford thriller “All Is Lost”, this is a robust and enthralling thriller-cum-romance that unusually delivers on both counts. The romance is believable and the thrills suitably thrilling, especially when a panic-ridden Tami is separated from her one patch of dry land. Although slightly let down by some dodgy dialogue, sitting amongst all the big-hitter summer blockbusters this is a movie you should definitely seek out.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (2018) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
“Contented with little, wishing for more”.
Here’s a curious little British film that has some merit, both as an entertainment vehicle and as a history lesson.
Set in a split-timeline between 1941 and 1946, the film tells the story of Juliet Ashton (Lily James, “Darkest Hour“, “Baby Driver“), a young British writer who seems all at sea emotion-wise following the war. She is struggling to fit in with her high-society London life, and can’t seem to put her heart into either her publishing commitments, much to the frustration of her publisher Sidney (Matthew Goode, “The Imitation Game“, “Stoker“), or her boyfriend Mark (Glen Powell, “Hidden Figures“), the dashing and well-off American army officer.
Into this mix drops a letter out of the blue from Guernsey from a pig-farmer called Dawsey Adams (Michiel Huisman, “The Age of Adeline“, “Game of Thrones”), which leads her on a trail of discovery into the mysterious back-story of the strangely named book club. The secrets of the tightly-knit St Peter Port community, and what really happened during the Nazi occupation, come progressively to light as Juliet digs deeper.
Much as “Their Finest” shone a light on the rather invisible war efforts of the British propaganda film industry, so here we get an interesting and (I believe) relatively untapped view of the historical background of the German occupation of the Channel Islands. How many viewers I wonder, especially those outside of the UK, knew that the Nazis occupied “British” territory* during the war?
(* Well, strictly speaking, the Channel Islands are a “crown dependency” rather than being part of the UK per se).
Story-wise the screenplay splits the drama between:
the love triangle (which I almost took to be a love square at the start of the film… and to be honest I’m still not 100% sure!) between the main protagonists and;
the mystery surrounding Guernsey’s Elizabeth McKenna (Jessica Brown Findlay, “The Riot Club”, Lady Sybil from Downton Abbey).
In the first instance, you would need to be pretty dim I think, particularly if you’ve seen the trailer already, not to work out where the story is going to head! (Although, to be fair, I thought that about “Their Finest” and was woefully wrong!). I found this all rather paint-by-numbers stuff, but livened up immensely by a scene between James and Powell and a bottle of champagne which is wonderfully and refreshingly pulled off.
The second strand of the story is slightly more intriguing and provides the opportunity to see the wonderful Jessica Brown Findlay in action: it is just disappointing that she actually features so little in the film, and also disappointing that, at a crucial dramatic moment, the action moves “off-stage”. I wanted to see more of that story.
In terms of casting, Susie Figgis must have had a TERRIBLE job in casting Juliet: “Gemma Arterton not available…. hmmm… who else would fit…. think… think… think… think dammit….! Ah, yes!!” Lily James might be in danger of becoming typecast as a 40’s-style love interest. But she just fits the bill in terms of looks and mannerisms SO perfectly.
Elsewhere in the cast, Penelope Wilton (“The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel“, “The BFG“) is superb as the deeply damaged Amelia; Tom Courtenay is 300% better than in his last movie outing as the cranky old postmaster; and TV’s Katherine Parkinson impresses greatly as the kooky gin-swilling Isola Pribby. All in all this is a fine ensemble cast. (With James, Goode, Wilton and Brown Findlay there, it must have also felt like a “Downton Abbey” reunion party!)
I’d also like to say that the Guernsey scenery was gloriously filmed, but as this article suggests, most of it was actually filmed in glorious Devon instead! Given the Guernsey Tourist Board have been going overboard (at least in the Southampton area) on film tie-in advertising, this feels rather like false representation! But I’m sure its equally lovely!
So in summary, it’s a thoughtful period piece, with some great acting performances and well-directed by Mike Newell (still most famous for “Four Weddings and a Funeral”). I enjoyed it but I felt it moved at a GLACIAL pace, taking over two hours to unfold, and I thought a few editing nips and tucks on the long lingering looks and leisurely strolls could have given it most impetus. But to be fair, my wife and cinema buddy for this film thought it was PERFECTLY paced, giving the story the space it needed for the drama and Juliet’s state of mind to unfold. In fact she gave it “5 Mads” as her rating… top marks! For me though a very creditable…
Set in a split-timeline between 1941 and 1946, the film tells the story of Juliet Ashton (Lily James, “Darkest Hour“, “Baby Driver“), a young British writer who seems all at sea emotion-wise following the war. She is struggling to fit in with her high-society London life, and can’t seem to put her heart into either her publishing commitments, much to the frustration of her publisher Sidney (Matthew Goode, “The Imitation Game“, “Stoker“), or her boyfriend Mark (Glen Powell, “Hidden Figures“), the dashing and well-off American army officer.
Into this mix drops a letter out of the blue from Guernsey from a pig-farmer called Dawsey Adams (Michiel Huisman, “The Age of Adeline“, “Game of Thrones”), which leads her on a trail of discovery into the mysterious back-story of the strangely named book club. The secrets of the tightly-knit St Peter Port community, and what really happened during the Nazi occupation, come progressively to light as Juliet digs deeper.
Much as “Their Finest” shone a light on the rather invisible war efforts of the British propaganda film industry, so here we get an interesting and (I believe) relatively untapped view of the historical background of the German occupation of the Channel Islands. How many viewers I wonder, especially those outside of the UK, knew that the Nazis occupied “British” territory* during the war?
(* Well, strictly speaking, the Channel Islands are a “crown dependency” rather than being part of the UK per se).
Story-wise the screenplay splits the drama between:
the love triangle (which I almost took to be a love square at the start of the film… and to be honest I’m still not 100% sure!) between the main protagonists and;
the mystery surrounding Guernsey’s Elizabeth McKenna (Jessica Brown Findlay, “The Riot Club”, Lady Sybil from Downton Abbey).
In the first instance, you would need to be pretty dim I think, particularly if you’ve seen the trailer already, not to work out where the story is going to head! (Although, to be fair, I thought that about “Their Finest” and was woefully wrong!). I found this all rather paint-by-numbers stuff, but livened up immensely by a scene between James and Powell and a bottle of champagne which is wonderfully and refreshingly pulled off.
The second strand of the story is slightly more intriguing and provides the opportunity to see the wonderful Jessica Brown Findlay in action: it is just disappointing that she actually features so little in the film, and also disappointing that, at a crucial dramatic moment, the action moves “off-stage”. I wanted to see more of that story.
In terms of casting, Susie Figgis must have had a TERRIBLE job in casting Juliet: “Gemma Arterton not available…. hmmm… who else would fit…. think… think… think… think dammit….! Ah, yes!!” Lily James might be in danger of becoming typecast as a 40’s-style love interest. But she just fits the bill in terms of looks and mannerisms SO perfectly.
Elsewhere in the cast, Penelope Wilton (“The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel“, “The BFG“) is superb as the deeply damaged Amelia; Tom Courtenay is 300% better than in his last movie outing as the cranky old postmaster; and TV’s Katherine Parkinson impresses greatly as the kooky gin-swilling Isola Pribby. All in all this is a fine ensemble cast. (With James, Goode, Wilton and Brown Findlay there, it must have also felt like a “Downton Abbey” reunion party!)
I’d also like to say that the Guernsey scenery was gloriously filmed, but as this article suggests, most of it was actually filmed in glorious Devon instead! Given the Guernsey Tourist Board have been going overboard (at least in the Southampton area) on film tie-in advertising, this feels rather like false representation! But I’m sure its equally lovely!
So in summary, it’s a thoughtful period piece, with some great acting performances and well-directed by Mike Newell (still most famous for “Four Weddings and a Funeral”). I enjoyed it but I felt it moved at a GLACIAL pace, taking over two hours to unfold, and I thought a few editing nips and tucks on the long lingering looks and leisurely strolls could have given it most impetus. But to be fair, my wife and cinema buddy for this film thought it was PERFECTLY paced, giving the story the space it needed for the drama and Juliet’s state of mind to unfold. In fact she gave it “5 Mads” as her rating… top marks! For me though a very creditable…
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror is Neither of Those Things
(I’m gonna go ahead and throw a disclaimer on up here: You are about to read something that deals with purportedly “erotic” subject matter. If you don’t like the sound of that word, you might wanna go elsewhere. If it’s actually-erotic things that offend you, though, you’ll be fine.)
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
Chris Sawin (602 KP) rated Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022) in Movies
May 4, 2022
The noticeable Sam Raimi elements. (2 more)
The film is great when it's able to showcase horror.
The second end credits sequence is amazing.
The film is incredibly formulaic outside of its horror elements. (2 more)
You don't really care about any of the new characters.
No one is going to get that first end credits sequence.
Sam Raimi Finally Brings Horror to the MCU
Even with all of the universe jumping and Sam Raimi being able to add his filmmaking trademarks, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is a bit too formulaic for its own good. Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) has been having dreams of a different version of himself dying while seeking a mythical book known as The Book of Ashanti. In his dream, Strange encounters America Chavez (Xochitl Gomez), a young girl with the uncontrollable power of universe jumping.
But then Strange meets America in his universe and learns that dreams are actually us seeing different versions of ourselves in different universes. Still blinded by the events in WandaVision, Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) intends to capture America and utilize her universe jumping ability to reunite with the children she created with magic.
Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness relies on what feels like a simplistic storyline to drive what is essentially the MCU’s first horror film. Strange really only seems driven to protect America because he dreamed about her and Wanda Maximoff has only turned evil because there’s suddenly this very thin line between being a mother and becoming a monster. Most of the film feels like a typical MCU film featuring the standard humor and wisecracking you’ve come to expect from superhero films along with the fate of the world (and possibly every other) probably being at stake.
The most refreshing moments of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness are the moments that you can tell Raimi had a hand in writing, directing, or having some sort of input in some capacity. This is Raimi’s first directorial gig since 2013’s Oz: The Great and Powerful and it becomes quite obvious that audiences have missed his work. The Shuma Gorath sequence (renamed Gargantos for trademark purposes) is outstanding. Doctor Strange, Wong, and America battling a giant one eyed octopus is something so awesome that it kind of writes itself. Not only is it the film’s first big action sequence, but you can see a lot of Doctor Octopus and Spider-Man 2 influences as Gargantos destroys skyscrapers and gets his tentacles chopped off. The slicing of the bus as it’s thrown at Doctor Strange and America is also legitimately one of the coolest moments of the film.
There is a ton of homage to Evil Dead and Drag Me to Hell buried within the film. The final 20 minutes are overflowing with concepts seemingly pulled from classic Sam Raimi films. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness revolves around a book of the damned not unlike the Necronomicon. There are at least two major eyeball gags and a ridiculous amount of burning candles in the film. Like most Sam Raimi films, there’s an emphasis on corniness. His sense of humor has always been on the corny side and the heartfelt moments always seem to be milked and over exaggerated ever so slightly. All of these elements are in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and they are the moments that make the film feel more unique in comparison to the other 28 films in the MCU.
Strange saves America from Scarlet Witch by knocking her and himself into her own star shaped portal that sees them both falling through multiple universes. It’s a gloriously disorienting sequence, but it’s also incredibly similar to not only what we saw in the first Doctor Strange film but also a lot like the 700 space jumps in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. This film is meant to open the door even further when it comes to the cosmic side of the MCU and now the horror side of it as well. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is not Spider-Man: No Way Home. There are not a ton of nostalgic cameos sprinkled throughout the film. There’s one sequence that combines fan speculation and other universes, but there aren’t a lot of hidden cameos like the internet speculated.
What is perhaps most interesting about this superhero sequel is that Stephen Strange is still learning to be more humble. His only play during Infinity War that ended up costing so many their lives for five long years is still weighing heavily on his mind. He also still loves Christine (Rachel McAdams) despite the fact that she’s moved on and struggles with whether he’s now happy or not. Throughout the film he’s constantly compared to the Doctor Strange of that universe and yet the film goes out of its way to show that this Doctor Strange is different. He will break the rules if he has to, but he will only do so when it’s the only option.
With so many universes and alternate versions of himself, it was naturally only a matter of time before Doctor Strange would have to fight himself. The musical note war Strange has with the Darkhold obsessed version of himself in the collapsed universe in the second half of the film does some really intriguing stuff with musical notes that essentially borrows visuals from the Chuck Jones directed animated short, “High Note,” from 1960 as well as the battle or reactionary element found in video games such as Dance Dance Revolution and Guitar Hero. It’s an unusual fight that seems to be inspired solely by Strange bumping into a piano during the magical brawl.
Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is dark, silly, and fan pleasing. The film is at is most bewitching when Sam Raimi can let his horror roots be showcased. It will satisfy horror and superhero film fans alike, but would have and could have been even better if Raimi was allowed to dive even further into the horror genre. Be sure to stay after the credits, as well. There are two after credits sequences with the final one being so absurdly on the nose for Sam Raimi that it may be the most entertaining part of the film.
But then Strange meets America in his universe and learns that dreams are actually us seeing different versions of ourselves in different universes. Still blinded by the events in WandaVision, Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) intends to capture America and utilize her universe jumping ability to reunite with the children she created with magic.
Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness relies on what feels like a simplistic storyline to drive what is essentially the MCU’s first horror film. Strange really only seems driven to protect America because he dreamed about her and Wanda Maximoff has only turned evil because there’s suddenly this very thin line between being a mother and becoming a monster. Most of the film feels like a typical MCU film featuring the standard humor and wisecracking you’ve come to expect from superhero films along with the fate of the world (and possibly every other) probably being at stake.
The most refreshing moments of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness are the moments that you can tell Raimi had a hand in writing, directing, or having some sort of input in some capacity. This is Raimi’s first directorial gig since 2013’s Oz: The Great and Powerful and it becomes quite obvious that audiences have missed his work. The Shuma Gorath sequence (renamed Gargantos for trademark purposes) is outstanding. Doctor Strange, Wong, and America battling a giant one eyed octopus is something so awesome that it kind of writes itself. Not only is it the film’s first big action sequence, but you can see a lot of Doctor Octopus and Spider-Man 2 influences as Gargantos destroys skyscrapers and gets his tentacles chopped off. The slicing of the bus as it’s thrown at Doctor Strange and America is also legitimately one of the coolest moments of the film.
There is a ton of homage to Evil Dead and Drag Me to Hell buried within the film. The final 20 minutes are overflowing with concepts seemingly pulled from classic Sam Raimi films. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness revolves around a book of the damned not unlike the Necronomicon. There are at least two major eyeball gags and a ridiculous amount of burning candles in the film. Like most Sam Raimi films, there’s an emphasis on corniness. His sense of humor has always been on the corny side and the heartfelt moments always seem to be milked and over exaggerated ever so slightly. All of these elements are in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and they are the moments that make the film feel more unique in comparison to the other 28 films in the MCU.
Strange saves America from Scarlet Witch by knocking her and himself into her own star shaped portal that sees them both falling through multiple universes. It’s a gloriously disorienting sequence, but it’s also incredibly similar to not only what we saw in the first Doctor Strange film but also a lot like the 700 space jumps in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. This film is meant to open the door even further when it comes to the cosmic side of the MCU and now the horror side of it as well. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is not Spider-Man: No Way Home. There are not a ton of nostalgic cameos sprinkled throughout the film. There’s one sequence that combines fan speculation and other universes, but there aren’t a lot of hidden cameos like the internet speculated.
What is perhaps most interesting about this superhero sequel is that Stephen Strange is still learning to be more humble. His only play during Infinity War that ended up costing so many their lives for five long years is still weighing heavily on his mind. He also still loves Christine (Rachel McAdams) despite the fact that she’s moved on and struggles with whether he’s now happy or not. Throughout the film he’s constantly compared to the Doctor Strange of that universe and yet the film goes out of its way to show that this Doctor Strange is different. He will break the rules if he has to, but he will only do so when it’s the only option.
With so many universes and alternate versions of himself, it was naturally only a matter of time before Doctor Strange would have to fight himself. The musical note war Strange has with the Darkhold obsessed version of himself in the collapsed universe in the second half of the film does some really intriguing stuff with musical notes that essentially borrows visuals from the Chuck Jones directed animated short, “High Note,” from 1960 as well as the battle or reactionary element found in video games such as Dance Dance Revolution and Guitar Hero. It’s an unusual fight that seems to be inspired solely by Strange bumping into a piano during the magical brawl.
Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness is dark, silly, and fan pleasing. The film is at is most bewitching when Sam Raimi can let his horror roots be showcased. It will satisfy horror and superhero film fans alike, but would have and could have been even better if Raimi was allowed to dive even further into the horror genre. Be sure to stay after the credits, as well. There are two after credits sequences with the final one being so absurdly on the nose for Sam Raimi that it may be the most entertaining part of the film.
A Bibliophagist (113 KP) rated Wuthering Heights in Books
Feb 12, 2020
Stands up (2 more)
Enthralling
Unique
Dislikable characters (1 more)
Difficult accents without translations
I will do my best to review this, however, I didn't heed the intro, this tour de force really does leave you as quickly as it comes, and reading another book before reviewing this one was a mistake.
In reading reviews prior to reading this book, I learned three major things; 1, people either love or hate this book, 2. I had no idea what I was actually in for, and 3. this may have not been the romantic pick for February I was expecting it to be.
So yes, PSA for anyone out there considering going into this thinking it's a romance. It is NOT. There are love stories in this, absolutely, powerful love stories that made me read quotes to my boyfriend with snarky statements like "if you don't say this at my funeral, did you ever really love me?". But it is NOT a romance. If anything this has more in common with "The Count of Monte Cristo" than it does "Pride and Prejudice". Honestly, the only thing it has in common with other, romantic books of this time, is the time period. But beware, no balls and high society and Mr. Darcy's await you in this novel. I feel a number of the reviews decrying the book, calling the characters "monstrous" both were the orchestrators of their own disappointment by assuming it to be like an Austin, and really need to look in the mirror and reflect on if they are really as perfect as they think they are. Especially if they were in the circumstances that surround this tale.
I find that Heathcliff himself addresses this mistake many readers had going into this book.
"picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and actin gon false impressions she cherished."
SO many readers went into this expecting Heathcliff to be some misunderstood brute or one harsh but salvaged by the purity of his love of Catherine. But this isn't the case.
Wuthering Heights tells the story of (I guess technically 3) but really 2 generations of families. Living in the Yorkshire Moors, isolated from high society. We have the Liptons, primmer and properer and more in touch with society, and the Earnshaws which become a little rough around the edges in their isolation and loss. Papa Earnshaw has two children, Catherine and Hindley, and adopts a small boy of unknown heritage but is implied to be Romani or of mixed race (sorry Tom Hardy and nearly every portrayal of Heathcliff), that he names, simply, Heathcliff. He loves Heathcliff, and dotes on him greatly, much to the chagrin of Hindly who grows to resent Heathcliff, treating him terribly until Hindly leaves for school. Catherine and Heathcliff become great playmates, their care is given primarily to a maid scarcely older than them, as Papa Earnshaw is a single daddy. They are wild things, as children I would assume would be, in such isolation as the Yorkshire Moors in a time before the creature comforts and entertainment we have. They grow very close, obsessively close. Upon Papa Earnshaw's death, Hindley returns (at around the age of 23) to run the household, and take over the care of these two youngsters, one of which, he hates. So, Cinderella-style, Heathcliff gets treated worse and worse and treated like a servant rather than the adoptive child that Papa Earnshaw loved so dearly. Suddenly Heathcliff is nothing, treated terribly, and has the most important thing in his life banned from him, Catherine. Meanwhile, the Liptons also have two children, not wild, but spoilt in their own ways, Edgar and Isabella, close in age to Heathcliff and Catherine. When H and C run off on a camping adventure and find themselves at the Lipton's house, Catherine is injured and stays with the Liptons, in their higher society for 5 weeks. Leaving Heathcliff to the abuse of her brother and further isolation. She returns much more a lady and with her connection to Heathcliff slightly burned. In an attempt to protect Heathcliff, and because Heathcliff is now no more than a servant and not an option to marry, Catherine intends to marry Edgar. Causing our resident bad boy to run off for a number of years. Only to return a proper, but still broody gentleman, and confuse Catherine's affection much to the displeasure of Edgar.
Now, this is where a number of shows and movies end things. With a focus on Catherine and Heathcliff's whirlwind romance, obsession. It has some of the most to the point and beautiful lines regarding love, not all flowery, not "I love you most ardently" but rather cries of "I am Heathcliff" by Catherine. Absolutely heart-rending, even though I didn't like Catherine. But this is not where the book ends. The book goes on to follow Heathcliff's obsession with revenge, with his treatment as a child, his rage against Hindley, and against losing Catherine to Edgar. He spends years slowly ruining everyone's lives. Not that you could really ruin Hindley's life, he was a mean drunk. But he even goes as far as to meddle with the next generation, Hindley's son Hareton is raised terribly and is a bit of a wild thing (those his redemption and love story is quite beautiful), Catherine's daughter Cathy and Heathcliff's son Lipton are whisked up into a big scheme by Heathcliff to take everything. Heathcliff even marry's out of pure spite.
Love does not redeem this man, he's barely an antihero without his youth story. He is angry and passionate and obsessed. Which for the first half of the book I didn't fault him for, but he does do some damnable things in the second half that you cannot argue away. No matter how romantic and beautiful and heartrending his lamentations can be. I was quite the character arc, quite the tale of revenge and loss. He was unredeemable because of his big sprawling schemes and harsh intentions. Catherine for me was unredeemable because she was an obnoxious, selfish thing, that honestly if Heathcliff had stopped thinking about two minutes would have found a better woman in every town. She whined and treated Edgar (who was honestly super sweet) so terribly, she had an anger problem and would work herself up until she was sick. But it is in this imperfection that I fell in love more with the book. Here is something unique and real, this is no Elizabeth Bennett. The isolation and hermetic lifestyle created very different characters than what we see in Jane Austin or even in Emily's sister's novel.
It's no wonder this book was harshly critiqued upon release, here is a woman, writing a revenge story, with love stories in it. That based on the biographical intro had some parallels to her own life. She lived an isolated existence, surrounded by the death of the majority of her family young. She was in her late 20s when she wrote this and died a year after publication. She made humans of monsters and monsters of humans and wrote something unexpected and truly unique.
It's hard for me to explain, amongst the harshness and bleakness of this novel, why I loved it so much. But I did, I loved every bit. The anger, the passion, the love, the scheming, I loved it all.
I also feel it's important to note that this whole story is told by a maid to a new tenant. So the narrator is unreliable. Were these people truly this way? Or is it clouded by this maid's opinions of them? How much is omitted due to the maid not being privy to an event?
Truly a fantastic read, that punched me in my chest and gut, grabbed and twisted my insides and refuses to let go. I would argue it's a cult classic rather than a classic. So please, shed all preconceived notions of what this book is, shake that Austin out of your mind and read this tale of obsession and revenge. It's well worth it.
In reading reviews prior to reading this book, I learned three major things; 1, people either love or hate this book, 2. I had no idea what I was actually in for, and 3. this may have not been the romantic pick for February I was expecting it to be.
So yes, PSA for anyone out there considering going into this thinking it's a romance. It is NOT. There are love stories in this, absolutely, powerful love stories that made me read quotes to my boyfriend with snarky statements like "if you don't say this at my funeral, did you ever really love me?". But it is NOT a romance. If anything this has more in common with "The Count of Monte Cristo" than it does "Pride and Prejudice". Honestly, the only thing it has in common with other, romantic books of this time, is the time period. But beware, no balls and high society and Mr. Darcy's await you in this novel. I feel a number of the reviews decrying the book, calling the characters "monstrous" both were the orchestrators of their own disappointment by assuming it to be like an Austin, and really need to look in the mirror and reflect on if they are really as perfect as they think they are. Especially if they were in the circumstances that surround this tale.
I find that Heathcliff himself addresses this mistake many readers had going into this book.
"picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and actin gon false impressions she cherished."
SO many readers went into this expecting Heathcliff to be some misunderstood brute or one harsh but salvaged by the purity of his love of Catherine. But this isn't the case.
Wuthering Heights tells the story of (I guess technically 3) but really 2 generations of families. Living in the Yorkshire Moors, isolated from high society. We have the Liptons, primmer and properer and more in touch with society, and the Earnshaws which become a little rough around the edges in their isolation and loss. Papa Earnshaw has two children, Catherine and Hindley, and adopts a small boy of unknown heritage but is implied to be Romani or of mixed race (sorry Tom Hardy and nearly every portrayal of Heathcliff), that he names, simply, Heathcliff. He loves Heathcliff, and dotes on him greatly, much to the chagrin of Hindly who grows to resent Heathcliff, treating him terribly until Hindly leaves for school. Catherine and Heathcliff become great playmates, their care is given primarily to a maid scarcely older than them, as Papa Earnshaw is a single daddy. They are wild things, as children I would assume would be, in such isolation as the Yorkshire Moors in a time before the creature comforts and entertainment we have. They grow very close, obsessively close. Upon Papa Earnshaw's death, Hindley returns (at around the age of 23) to run the household, and take over the care of these two youngsters, one of which, he hates. So, Cinderella-style, Heathcliff gets treated worse and worse and treated like a servant rather than the adoptive child that Papa Earnshaw loved so dearly. Suddenly Heathcliff is nothing, treated terribly, and has the most important thing in his life banned from him, Catherine. Meanwhile, the Liptons also have two children, not wild, but spoilt in their own ways, Edgar and Isabella, close in age to Heathcliff and Catherine. When H and C run off on a camping adventure and find themselves at the Lipton's house, Catherine is injured and stays with the Liptons, in their higher society for 5 weeks. Leaving Heathcliff to the abuse of her brother and further isolation. She returns much more a lady and with her connection to Heathcliff slightly burned. In an attempt to protect Heathcliff, and because Heathcliff is now no more than a servant and not an option to marry, Catherine intends to marry Edgar. Causing our resident bad boy to run off for a number of years. Only to return a proper, but still broody gentleman, and confuse Catherine's affection much to the displeasure of Edgar.
Now, this is where a number of shows and movies end things. With a focus on Catherine and Heathcliff's whirlwind romance, obsession. It has some of the most to the point and beautiful lines regarding love, not all flowery, not "I love you most ardently" but rather cries of "I am Heathcliff" by Catherine. Absolutely heart-rending, even though I didn't like Catherine. But this is not where the book ends. The book goes on to follow Heathcliff's obsession with revenge, with his treatment as a child, his rage against Hindley, and against losing Catherine to Edgar. He spends years slowly ruining everyone's lives. Not that you could really ruin Hindley's life, he was a mean drunk. But he even goes as far as to meddle with the next generation, Hindley's son Hareton is raised terribly and is a bit of a wild thing (those his redemption and love story is quite beautiful), Catherine's daughter Cathy and Heathcliff's son Lipton are whisked up into a big scheme by Heathcliff to take everything. Heathcliff even marry's out of pure spite.
Love does not redeem this man, he's barely an antihero without his youth story. He is angry and passionate and obsessed. Which for the first half of the book I didn't fault him for, but he does do some damnable things in the second half that you cannot argue away. No matter how romantic and beautiful and heartrending his lamentations can be. I was quite the character arc, quite the tale of revenge and loss. He was unredeemable because of his big sprawling schemes and harsh intentions. Catherine for me was unredeemable because she was an obnoxious, selfish thing, that honestly if Heathcliff had stopped thinking about two minutes would have found a better woman in every town. She whined and treated Edgar (who was honestly super sweet) so terribly, she had an anger problem and would work herself up until she was sick. But it is in this imperfection that I fell in love more with the book. Here is something unique and real, this is no Elizabeth Bennett. The isolation and hermetic lifestyle created very different characters than what we see in Jane Austin or even in Emily's sister's novel.
It's no wonder this book was harshly critiqued upon release, here is a woman, writing a revenge story, with love stories in it. That based on the biographical intro had some parallels to her own life. She lived an isolated existence, surrounded by the death of the majority of her family young. She was in her late 20s when she wrote this and died a year after publication. She made humans of monsters and monsters of humans and wrote something unexpected and truly unique.
It's hard for me to explain, amongst the harshness and bleakness of this novel, why I loved it so much. But I did, I loved every bit. The anger, the passion, the love, the scheming, I loved it all.
I also feel it's important to note that this whole story is told by a maid to a new tenant. So the narrator is unreliable. Were these people truly this way? Or is it clouded by this maid's opinions of them? How much is omitted due to the maid not being privy to an event?
Truly a fantastic read, that punched me in my chest and gut, grabbed and twisted my insides and refuses to let go. I would argue it's a cult classic rather than a classic. So please, shed all preconceived notions of what this book is, shake that Austin out of your mind and read this tale of obsession and revenge. It's well worth it.