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Bob Mann (459 KP) rated The Magnificent Seven (2016) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
A Hornery Exit.
As a big fan of the original – a staple of many Bank Holiday afternoons in my youth – I was prepared to be sniffy about this remake and came to the film on my high-horse (I left that tied to the rail outside the cinema by the way). But I was surprised to have my expectations reset.
Possibly on the basis that Trump has been given the Mexican’s a good bashing lately, the villain of the piece in this film is updated from Mexican bandit Calvera to Sacremento based land-snatcher and all round bad-egg Bartholomew Bogue (an expressionless Peter Sarsgaard). After ripping through some of the inhabitants of Rose Creek in a brutal pre-title sequence, widowed sharp-shooter Emma Cullen (Haley Bennett, “The Equalizer”) heads into the West on a recruiting mission for hired guns. She first recruits the bounty hunter Chisholm (sing “Chisum, John Chisum…”… no, sorry different Western) played by Denzel Washington. Washington matches Yul Brynner’s famous black outfit, and unlike Brynner is obviously able to finish off the ensemble naturally!
They recruit another six (who’d have thought it?) including wise-guy gambler Faraday (Chris “Guardians of the Galaxy” Pratt); famed confederate sniper Goodnight Robicheaux (Ethan Hawke); his nifty knife throwing Asian sidekick (but good for the Far East box office) Billy Rocks (Bjung-hun Lee, from Terminator: Genisys); and religious bear-of-a-man Indian-hunter Jack Horne (Vincent D’Onofrio, “Jurassic World”). After trying to whip the incompetent townsfolk into shape, and setting some Home-Alone style surprises, the stage is set for a showdown as Bogue whips up an army to re-take “his” town.
I like classic Westerns, with John Ford’s Rio Bravo being a particular favourite. In my view the problem with many modern Westerns is that they try too hard to shock (Tarentino’s recent “Hateful 8” was a case in point: a promising start ruined by gratuitous over-the-top violence). “The Magnificent Seven” doesn’t make that mistake, and while the squib-master and blood-bag boy are heavily employed throughout, nothing is too excessive: in fact, my view – and I don’t often tend in this direction – is that the censors rather over-egged the UK 12A rating on this one and could have gone with a 12. Director Antoine Fuqua has produced a film that is highly respectful of its heritage: perhaps to the point where many scenes might be deemed to be clichéd. But I personally warmed to that.
Denzel Washington was born to be in a Western like this and the emerging Chris Pratt does his star potential no harm by turning in a stellar performance adding both levity – with some whip-sharp lines – and screen presence in the role made famous by Steve McQueen. (Although no one comes close to the screen presence of McQueen…. Look up “real man” in the dictionary and his picture is there!) Also effective is Ethan Hawke in the nearest thing to the Robert Vaughan character in this film.
Where the adapted script by Richard Wenk and Nik Pizzolatto falters somewhat is in the motivations of the characters, which come across as superficial and unconvincing. (Perhaps “selling” was a whole lot easier in the Old West?) It is even unclear at the end of the film whether the survivors (and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the seven don’t all make it!) actually take their payment, or even a “share of the gold” that the town is sitting on. It makes for an unsatisfactory closure. The degree of racial harmony present in the film is also difficult to buy into, and the script could have made something more of this.
The film soundtrack marks the swan-song of the late James Horner, so tragically killed in a plane crash last year at the age of just 61. As the natural successor to the great John Williams and the late Jerry Goldsmith, Horner’s loss was a terrible one. The film is dedicated to him. Although the soundtrack was completed by Simon Franglen, there are flourishes of classic Horner, most notably in the first Rose Creek showdown scene. There is also a treat to the ears over the closing credits which is very welcome.
Although the film draws natural comparison with its 5* classic predecessor, this is a good film in its own right – a genuinely pleasant surprise. Perhaps its done well enough that we might get to now see a remake of “The Return of the Seven”. I hope so… “the Western is dead… long live the Western”!
Possibly on the basis that Trump has been given the Mexican’s a good bashing lately, the villain of the piece in this film is updated from Mexican bandit Calvera to Sacremento based land-snatcher and all round bad-egg Bartholomew Bogue (an expressionless Peter Sarsgaard). After ripping through some of the inhabitants of Rose Creek in a brutal pre-title sequence, widowed sharp-shooter Emma Cullen (Haley Bennett, “The Equalizer”) heads into the West on a recruiting mission for hired guns. She first recruits the bounty hunter Chisholm (sing “Chisum, John Chisum…”… no, sorry different Western) played by Denzel Washington. Washington matches Yul Brynner’s famous black outfit, and unlike Brynner is obviously able to finish off the ensemble naturally!
They recruit another six (who’d have thought it?) including wise-guy gambler Faraday (Chris “Guardians of the Galaxy” Pratt); famed confederate sniper Goodnight Robicheaux (Ethan Hawke); his nifty knife throwing Asian sidekick (but good for the Far East box office) Billy Rocks (Bjung-hun Lee, from Terminator: Genisys); and religious bear-of-a-man Indian-hunter Jack Horne (Vincent D’Onofrio, “Jurassic World”). After trying to whip the incompetent townsfolk into shape, and setting some Home-Alone style surprises, the stage is set for a showdown as Bogue whips up an army to re-take “his” town.
I like classic Westerns, with John Ford’s Rio Bravo being a particular favourite. In my view the problem with many modern Westerns is that they try too hard to shock (Tarentino’s recent “Hateful 8” was a case in point: a promising start ruined by gratuitous over-the-top violence). “The Magnificent Seven” doesn’t make that mistake, and while the squib-master and blood-bag boy are heavily employed throughout, nothing is too excessive: in fact, my view – and I don’t often tend in this direction – is that the censors rather over-egged the UK 12A rating on this one and could have gone with a 12. Director Antoine Fuqua has produced a film that is highly respectful of its heritage: perhaps to the point where many scenes might be deemed to be clichéd. But I personally warmed to that.
Denzel Washington was born to be in a Western like this and the emerging Chris Pratt does his star potential no harm by turning in a stellar performance adding both levity – with some whip-sharp lines – and screen presence in the role made famous by Steve McQueen. (Although no one comes close to the screen presence of McQueen…. Look up “real man” in the dictionary and his picture is there!) Also effective is Ethan Hawke in the nearest thing to the Robert Vaughan character in this film.
Where the adapted script by Richard Wenk and Nik Pizzolatto falters somewhat is in the motivations of the characters, which come across as superficial and unconvincing. (Perhaps “selling” was a whole lot easier in the Old West?) It is even unclear at the end of the film whether the survivors (and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the seven don’t all make it!) actually take their payment, or even a “share of the gold” that the town is sitting on. It makes for an unsatisfactory closure. The degree of racial harmony present in the film is also difficult to buy into, and the script could have made something more of this.
The film soundtrack marks the swan-song of the late James Horner, so tragically killed in a plane crash last year at the age of just 61. As the natural successor to the great John Williams and the late Jerry Goldsmith, Horner’s loss was a terrible one. The film is dedicated to him. Although the soundtrack was completed by Simon Franglen, there are flourishes of classic Horner, most notably in the first Rose Creek showdown scene. There is also a treat to the ears over the closing credits which is very welcome.
Although the film draws natural comparison with its 5* classic predecessor, this is a good film in its own right – a genuinely pleasant surprise. Perhaps its done well enough that we might get to now see a remake of “The Return of the Seven”. I hope so… “the Western is dead… long live the Western”!
A Bibliophagist (113 KP) rated Space Opera in Books
Jan 25, 2020 (Updated Jan 25, 2020)
Fun writing (2 more)
Creative
Witty
Overwritten (3 more)
Lacking plot
Disjointed and distracted
Boring
Technicolor Encyclopedia entry
Space Opera seems to be a book, that based on other reviews, you either love or hate. The love reviewers can't seem to tell me why they love it, most attempting to replicate the style of the author and relying on a menagerie of adjectives to express themselves. "A glitter punk, Eurovision romp!" "Technicolor whirlwind!" but not actually saying WHY they liked it, or just saying "well you didn't get the humor". The ones who disliked it are pretty clear, and as I struggled with this book I found I agreed with their complaints. However, I have to thank the sheer number of DNFs from the disliked group for causing me to, ironically, finish it. I hate DNFing books, to begin with, but when I saw just how many bad reviews didn't make it through, it felt as bad as the good reviews not actually reviewing anything. So I powered through, and honestly, it was worth finishing. The author really got back on track and it was a great ending.
Valente has in fact given us a Eurovision, glitter punk, electric baby with Douglas Adams, her writing fantastical and humorous, her characters vapid but in a washed-out musician kind of way. She really thought about this book, creating droves of aliens and probably destroying a number of thesauri to bring them to life. We follow Decibel Jones of the "oh you haven't heard of it, well we used to be a thing" Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros. A washed-up, no longer active glitter punk band who is an amalgam of every band you probably are thinking of when trying to grasp what that description means.
The book opens with a wonderfully witty description of how there is in fact other life out there in the universe, life is easy to come by, they've just been off doing a galactic war and while they were gone we kind of popped up. Life is stupid. This part is the best part of the book. The humor is on point, the prose magnificant. She is spot on and very pointed in her argument for why war happens. It's people vs meat, and how does one determine something isn't meat, but in fact sentient? Well, no one really figured that out, hence the galactic war, but NOW post-war they think they've figured it out. Intergalactic Music competition. Makes sense, only something sentient could create music right?
Well, this year is a special year because Earth is invited, we've been deemed "may be sentient", but questionable enough that they'd rather not let us just hang out and become annoying someday. So we have to present a band and performance for consideration. We just have to not place last. If we don't place last, we're part of the club and we'll be a-ok. If we place last, we'll be destroyed, because they already think we're annoying and that will mean we're meat. People vs meat remember?
So, one day everyone on the planet earth, everyone, awake or sleeping is visited by the blue birdlike projection of our assigned guides, the Esca, and alien species that are new to the whole being accepted as a sentient thing, and will guide us through the competition. Which it is now telling us about, Suprise! They've chosen a list of musicians they think will do well, however it's outdated and only one band is really able to do it, the has-beens, who are they, Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros. Time was rough on our glam-punk friends as it tends to be on musicians, they lost the third member about a decade ago, the two remaining no longer talk. Decibel is a trainwreck, and Oort St Ultraviolet is now just a dad who very much wants to be a regular dude. But now they're being whisked off into space to sing for the world's salvation.
Sounds pretty fun right? This plus Douglas Adams type prose and humor? A real knock out. Unfortunately, that story I just described takes up... maybe a quarter of the book, MAYBE. You can pull the main story out and put it into a book that might be too small to be a novella. Because of this, the backstory, development, and exploration of these characters are slim to nothing. There is some mind you, but very little. It isn't until the 180pg mark or so that Valente actually decides to focus on the plot, giving very little time to do the entire Grand Prix, the actual competition takes up a page. A 288-page book about a singing competition and only 1-2 pages is actually the singing competition. Tack on another 10 maybe for the weird cocktail death party right before, that didn't have enough attempted death to make any real point of it, plus maybe another 5-10 scattered throughout the book on the back story and leading up to the story, and we've got MAYBE 25 pages of the actual plot. My math is wrong, I know, but it sure FEELS like this.
So, in a 288-page book, with 25 pages being the actual story, what are the other 263 pages? It was the author being somewhat... I don't mean to sound mean, but full of herself? She tried WAY too hard on this style she was going for. It felt like an "oh, you liked that opening chapter, didn't you? You totally read it out loud to your boyfriend, well here let me give it to you again, and again, and ... again". This book suffers from a severe case of needing to be edited. Of someone saying "that's enough now dear, but what about the story". Every few pages of the backstory of the plot we got were met with full chapters, sometimes multiple of Valente describing yet another alien species she's created, in yet another chain of witty simile and metaphor. To the point where sometimes I no longer knew what was happening, they were all interchangeable, which alien are we talking about now? It went on and on and on, and I never knew how such humorous writing could be just so soul suckingly boring. When she ran out of aliens it was describing previous grand prix's and how the aliens sang. In the exact same, formulaic, witty simile, witty simile, witty simile. Don't get me wrong, there were some absolute gems in here. Some that made me laugh out loud. But it's all about the ratio. I would trade in a heartbeat the ratio in this book. 263 pages of plot, and 25 pages of aliens described in witty simile. It took everything in my power after the third alien chapter to not skim. But she fit so much into a sentence that I was scared somewhere hiding would be a plot point (spoiler alert, there wasn't, skim away).
Then around the 180 page mark, a flip was switched, it was almost as if she went "crap, a story!" the adjective use was slimmed down dramatically and we actually got more than one chapter in a row with a plot point. But at this point, it was too late, the end of the book was hurdling at us and very little had happened and the book pretty much fizzled out with an "oh yeah, the Grand Prix happened". Mind you, the finale was very heartwarming and I liked it a lot. I just wish I hadn't had to read a full chapter about hairbrush interspecies sex to get there, and instead had more of it. But ironically, the hairbrush sex had more plot advancement that the majority of the book.
The ending did, however, for one moment, make me forget that I had just read an encyclopedia of descriptors and was happy for a few minutes. So good on her for that. That proves to me that she can write more than glittery descriptions, which then made me sad I didn't have more of that writing. With just a spattering of the gold of her opening chapters. I am glad I finished the book, the story, what little there was, was worth the read. However, I have no desire to read any other of Valente's writing now, and if there was a sequel, I just don't think I have it in me to read another 263 pages of description. Cool idea, good ability, just terribly executed. She could easily have released a separate book, expanding on a handful of species she established in the book, like an alien compendium, and I would have read it, and laughed, and been okay because I went into it expecting it. But I went into this wanting a story, not a neon throwup encyclopedia of just how "oh so creative" Valente is. That came off harsh, I know, but they blew past the fine line of interesting and well into the self-serving, look what I can do, territory. What suffered for it wasn't just a large number of DNFs, and my sanity for a few days, but an actually interesting, fun, Eurovision, glitter punk, heartwarming story about loss, life, how stupid it is, how beautiful it is, and why we should fight for it. It's in there, hiding beneath the layers and layers of word vomit. I want that story. Please release a second edition that is just that, the opening, and say... 3-5 of your favorite aliens Valente, I promise I'll give it another try if you do.
Valente has in fact given us a Eurovision, glitter punk, electric baby with Douglas Adams, her writing fantastical and humorous, her characters vapid but in a washed-out musician kind of way. She really thought about this book, creating droves of aliens and probably destroying a number of thesauri to bring them to life. We follow Decibel Jones of the "oh you haven't heard of it, well we used to be a thing" Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros. A washed-up, no longer active glitter punk band who is an amalgam of every band you probably are thinking of when trying to grasp what that description means.
The book opens with a wonderfully witty description of how there is in fact other life out there in the universe, life is easy to come by, they've just been off doing a galactic war and while they were gone we kind of popped up. Life is stupid. This part is the best part of the book. The humor is on point, the prose magnificant. She is spot on and very pointed in her argument for why war happens. It's people vs meat, and how does one determine something isn't meat, but in fact sentient? Well, no one really figured that out, hence the galactic war, but NOW post-war they think they've figured it out. Intergalactic Music competition. Makes sense, only something sentient could create music right?
Well, this year is a special year because Earth is invited, we've been deemed "may be sentient", but questionable enough that they'd rather not let us just hang out and become annoying someday. So we have to present a band and performance for consideration. We just have to not place last. If we don't place last, we're part of the club and we'll be a-ok. If we place last, we'll be destroyed, because they already think we're annoying and that will mean we're meat. People vs meat remember?
So, one day everyone on the planet earth, everyone, awake or sleeping is visited by the blue birdlike projection of our assigned guides, the Esca, and alien species that are new to the whole being accepted as a sentient thing, and will guide us through the competition. Which it is now telling us about, Suprise! They've chosen a list of musicians they think will do well, however it's outdated and only one band is really able to do it, the has-beens, who are they, Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros. Time was rough on our glam-punk friends as it tends to be on musicians, they lost the third member about a decade ago, the two remaining no longer talk. Decibel is a trainwreck, and Oort St Ultraviolet is now just a dad who very much wants to be a regular dude. But now they're being whisked off into space to sing for the world's salvation.
Sounds pretty fun right? This plus Douglas Adams type prose and humor? A real knock out. Unfortunately, that story I just described takes up... maybe a quarter of the book, MAYBE. You can pull the main story out and put it into a book that might be too small to be a novella. Because of this, the backstory, development, and exploration of these characters are slim to nothing. There is some mind you, but very little. It isn't until the 180pg mark or so that Valente actually decides to focus on the plot, giving very little time to do the entire Grand Prix, the actual competition takes up a page. A 288-page book about a singing competition and only 1-2 pages is actually the singing competition. Tack on another 10 maybe for the weird cocktail death party right before, that didn't have enough attempted death to make any real point of it, plus maybe another 5-10 scattered throughout the book on the back story and leading up to the story, and we've got MAYBE 25 pages of the actual plot. My math is wrong, I know, but it sure FEELS like this.
So, in a 288-page book, with 25 pages being the actual story, what are the other 263 pages? It was the author being somewhat... I don't mean to sound mean, but full of herself? She tried WAY too hard on this style she was going for. It felt like an "oh, you liked that opening chapter, didn't you? You totally read it out loud to your boyfriend, well here let me give it to you again, and again, and ... again". This book suffers from a severe case of needing to be edited. Of someone saying "that's enough now dear, but what about the story". Every few pages of the backstory of the plot we got were met with full chapters, sometimes multiple of Valente describing yet another alien species she's created, in yet another chain of witty simile and metaphor. To the point where sometimes I no longer knew what was happening, they were all interchangeable, which alien are we talking about now? It went on and on and on, and I never knew how such humorous writing could be just so soul suckingly boring. When she ran out of aliens it was describing previous grand prix's and how the aliens sang. In the exact same, formulaic, witty simile, witty simile, witty simile. Don't get me wrong, there were some absolute gems in here. Some that made me laugh out loud. But it's all about the ratio. I would trade in a heartbeat the ratio in this book. 263 pages of plot, and 25 pages of aliens described in witty simile. It took everything in my power after the third alien chapter to not skim. But she fit so much into a sentence that I was scared somewhere hiding would be a plot point (spoiler alert, there wasn't, skim away).
Then around the 180 page mark, a flip was switched, it was almost as if she went "crap, a story!" the adjective use was slimmed down dramatically and we actually got more than one chapter in a row with a plot point. But at this point, it was too late, the end of the book was hurdling at us and very little had happened and the book pretty much fizzled out with an "oh yeah, the Grand Prix happened". Mind you, the finale was very heartwarming and I liked it a lot. I just wish I hadn't had to read a full chapter about hairbrush interspecies sex to get there, and instead had more of it. But ironically, the hairbrush sex had more plot advancement that the majority of the book.
The ending did, however, for one moment, make me forget that I had just read an encyclopedia of descriptors and was happy for a few minutes. So good on her for that. That proves to me that she can write more than glittery descriptions, which then made me sad I didn't have more of that writing. With just a spattering of the gold of her opening chapters. I am glad I finished the book, the story, what little there was, was worth the read. However, I have no desire to read any other of Valente's writing now, and if there was a sequel, I just don't think I have it in me to read another 263 pages of description. Cool idea, good ability, just terribly executed. She could easily have released a separate book, expanding on a handful of species she established in the book, like an alien compendium, and I would have read it, and laughed, and been okay because I went into it expecting it. But I went into this wanting a story, not a neon throwup encyclopedia of just how "oh so creative" Valente is. That came off harsh, I know, but they blew past the fine line of interesting and well into the self-serving, look what I can do, territory. What suffered for it wasn't just a large number of DNFs, and my sanity for a few days, but an actually interesting, fun, Eurovision, glitter punk, heartwarming story about loss, life, how stupid it is, how beautiful it is, and why we should fight for it. It's in there, hiding beneath the layers and layers of word vomit. I want that story. Please release a second edition that is just that, the opening, and say... 3-5 of your favorite aliens Valente, I promise I'll give it another try if you do.
KalJ95 (25 KP) rated The Last of Us Part II in Video Games
Jun 23, 2020
You Won't Find A Better Game In Terms Of Presentation. (4 more)
Level Design Is Astounding.
Like The First Game, This Will Create A Conversation For Years To Come
Sound Design Is Incredible.
Takes Risks, And Some Do Pay Off.
A Flawed Sequel. (4 more)
Awful Pacing.
Structure Of Narrative Is Bad.
Some Terrible Dialogue.
Shoehorned Agenda.
The last of The Last of Us.
The video game industry doesn't get enough credit as a source of entertainment, in my humble opinion. Time and time again, the industry has proven that it can produce something magical, memorable, mesmerising to play, and even more so, something engaging to watch as someone not even holding the controller. Naughty Dog’s 2013 masterpiece, The Last of Us, became an overnight classic game because it was cinematic in presentation, and a rollercoaster of emotions in narrative. I sat and played the remastered version on my PlayStation 4 in 2017, and fell in love with the chemistry, love and heartbreak Joel and Ellie took with them, as they crossed a post-apocalyptic America. I was satisfied with the conclusion, and felt the story of these two characters was finished. I didn't need, or ever want a sequel. Then a few months pass, The Last of Us Part II is announced. Obviously, I was ecstatic, but also concerned. Trailers came and went, delays happened over and over, and leaks began to drip onto the internet. I was even more concerned with the leaks, and how this game was taking shape, but I remained open minded, and began playing the game.
The Last of Us Part II is a strange beast. An ambitious, exquisite experience, mired by multiple flaws in structure, pacing and plot holes. I simultaneously adored and loathed the twenty five hour experience, and I’m ready to do it all again. Ellie’s thirst for revenge deals with many issues of morality and hate, and the consequences of ones actions. To coin a phrase, “violence begets violence”, and this is very violent. A flawed piece of art, that often shoehorns a political tick list so it can cater to a certain demographic of sexuality and gender. Whatever you think about Part II, it will create a conversation for years to come, for better or worse.
Narrative:
Ellie and Joel are settled in Jackson, Wyoming, living a relatively normal existence. Ellie is nineteen, and has a job, like the rest of the fighters in Jackson, by going out into the world on routes to clear out the wondering infected. When Ellie witnesses a violent event, she takes it into her own hands to take bloody revenge on the people responsible.
A big risk was taken by Naughty Dog to decide what they did for the first two hours, even the VP of the company, Neil Druckmann, said himself the game will be “divisive”, and that is probably an understatement judging by the fan backlash. I feel it worked to support the other twenty three hours, and shows the blurry line of being good and bad in this world.
Unfortunately, the narrative slogs through awful structuring and some dreadful, downright cringe-worthy dialogue. The structure goes back and forth from the present day, to months, and sometimes years previous, and this is all to cement the events that keep the narrative flowing. The flashbacks featuring Joel and Ellie give you brief moments of happiness, followed by devastating revelations. They are the best moments of the game, you can feel the warmth the characters have for each other, and the heartbreaking actions they take. It made me wonder why they simply didn't just create a game with these ideas in mind. Other flashbacks create more problems than they solve, particularly in the latter half of the game. The first half, for all its faults, really treats you to a vicious and bloodthirsty ride through Seattle, and you completely feel the motivation and drive Ellie has to complete the mission she's set out to do. Seattle is huge, and the perfect backdrop for this game.
Sadly, the second half of the game is an absolute mess. The whole experience becomes nothing more than “go to this location, collect something, go back” over and over again. Its a lazy trope that causes so much fatigue in terms of pacing, slowing down any momentum gained by the first half. The second half serves the most important purpose too, and while I did grow to understand the intention it was presenting me, I couldn't help but feel frequently bored of doing fetch quests. To remain as spoiler free as possible, the game is split into two perspectives of Ellie, and an entirely new character. Naughty Dog wants you to understand the perspectives of both sides, but the history thats been created with the original game, you cant help but sympathise with Ellie more. The fact that its half the game away from the main protagonist, and starts you fresh with a new character, with new skill sets and weapons, really feels out of place. This could of worked much better as an episodic entry, rather than just two stories, one after the other. I can understand people who love this way of storytelling, but for me it slows the pacing down.
Gameplay:
Part II is the most beautiful game I’ve ever played. Naughty Dog continue to set the bar extremely high in terms of surroundings and facial animations, and the seamless transitions from cutscene to gameplay made my jaw drop. Each facial movement shows the hurt, the honesty, the devastation the characters carry with them. It almost feels more like a film or tv series than a video game, featuring an excellent performance from Troy Baker, and a career defining show from Ashley Johnson. Unfortunately, some of the new cast members don't have enough time on screen to give a full understanding of their personality or perspective. Some are likeable, relatable even, but some are just annoying, saying some of the strangest, out of place dialogue.
In terms of its gameplay, Part II hasn't really changed anything from its predecessor. It feels the same, whether you enjoyed it first time round or not. I personally am in the middle ground, it works for what it is. The Last of Us has always been a game about surviving by any means necessary. Part II feels like multiple ideas all in one, all conflicting themselves. Let me explain:
The game actively tries to twist the act of killing people to make you seem like its an awful thing to do. This is an interesting idea that has been done many times before in games, but it works in the oddest of ways here. I have completed the game twice now, and found it almost impossible to not kill anyone, yet cutscenes display remorse within the characters after they’ve murdered someone. This conflicts the idea of the whole game, where one moment I'm slicing a persons throat with a knife, the next I do the exact same, but this time I regret that decision. Again, its adding less weight to the story, and actively contradicting everything that happens.
Extra Notes:
The environments of Part II are some of the best in a video game. A sandbox of lush greenery and worn down buildings follows the same formula that Naughty Dog designed in Uncharted: The Lost Legacy, where you can explore a massive space to do what you find the objectives, but also see the sights and collect items. The level design of the entire game is absolutely masterful, but this level astounded me graphically and structurally.
By this point, it probably feels like I utterly hated Part II. I did, and didn’t, and thats the line I'm sticking on. The Last of Us always presented a commentary as to the nature of relationships, love, life and death. At the core was Ellie and Joel, two wayward strangers forced together on a journey across America. Everyone has a reason to love that game, for me its their chemistry and progression. Joel was hardened, standoffish, only to warm to Ellie, and love her by the end. Ellie, the immune girl who's humorous, optimistic and full of life, who ultimately becomes cold, quiet and sceptical of Joel.
Part II presents a different commentary, one of revenge and hate. I firmly believe Part II is weak in most areas, a downgrade in fact compared to its counterpart, but its so beautiful and bleak, with so many incapsulated moments of joy, heartbreak, love, shock. Its uncompromising, relentless and essential for anyone with a PS4. This will be a game I will constantly change my opinion on the more I think about it. As I said at the beginning, I never felt a sequel was necessary, and I firmly believe the story must end here.
(P.S. I must mention that Naughty Dog and Sony have only themselves to blame when it comes to the reception Part II has received during its release and promotional material. Early reviewers were told that they could only go into detail about the first ten or so hours, not mentioning the other fifteen. The other fifteen hours are incredibly important to mention, and they either make or break this game, so not letting reviewers do their job feels disingenuous, and from my point of view shows that they had no faith in their product to be criticised. The promotional material is also hugely misleading. The trailers show a completely different game, and characters are swapped for others in key scenes. That is wrong, and once again, shows your audience you had zero faith in your product based on the actual plot of your game.)
The Last of Us Part II is a strange beast. An ambitious, exquisite experience, mired by multiple flaws in structure, pacing and plot holes. I simultaneously adored and loathed the twenty five hour experience, and I’m ready to do it all again. Ellie’s thirst for revenge deals with many issues of morality and hate, and the consequences of ones actions. To coin a phrase, “violence begets violence”, and this is very violent. A flawed piece of art, that often shoehorns a political tick list so it can cater to a certain demographic of sexuality and gender. Whatever you think about Part II, it will create a conversation for years to come, for better or worse.
Narrative:
Ellie and Joel are settled in Jackson, Wyoming, living a relatively normal existence. Ellie is nineteen, and has a job, like the rest of the fighters in Jackson, by going out into the world on routes to clear out the wondering infected. When Ellie witnesses a violent event, she takes it into her own hands to take bloody revenge on the people responsible.
A big risk was taken by Naughty Dog to decide what they did for the first two hours, even the VP of the company, Neil Druckmann, said himself the game will be “divisive”, and that is probably an understatement judging by the fan backlash. I feel it worked to support the other twenty three hours, and shows the blurry line of being good and bad in this world.
Unfortunately, the narrative slogs through awful structuring and some dreadful, downright cringe-worthy dialogue. The structure goes back and forth from the present day, to months, and sometimes years previous, and this is all to cement the events that keep the narrative flowing. The flashbacks featuring Joel and Ellie give you brief moments of happiness, followed by devastating revelations. They are the best moments of the game, you can feel the warmth the characters have for each other, and the heartbreaking actions they take. It made me wonder why they simply didn't just create a game with these ideas in mind. Other flashbacks create more problems than they solve, particularly in the latter half of the game. The first half, for all its faults, really treats you to a vicious and bloodthirsty ride through Seattle, and you completely feel the motivation and drive Ellie has to complete the mission she's set out to do. Seattle is huge, and the perfect backdrop for this game.
Sadly, the second half of the game is an absolute mess. The whole experience becomes nothing more than “go to this location, collect something, go back” over and over again. Its a lazy trope that causes so much fatigue in terms of pacing, slowing down any momentum gained by the first half. The second half serves the most important purpose too, and while I did grow to understand the intention it was presenting me, I couldn't help but feel frequently bored of doing fetch quests. To remain as spoiler free as possible, the game is split into two perspectives of Ellie, and an entirely new character. Naughty Dog wants you to understand the perspectives of both sides, but the history thats been created with the original game, you cant help but sympathise with Ellie more. The fact that its half the game away from the main protagonist, and starts you fresh with a new character, with new skill sets and weapons, really feels out of place. This could of worked much better as an episodic entry, rather than just two stories, one after the other. I can understand people who love this way of storytelling, but for me it slows the pacing down.
Gameplay:
Part II is the most beautiful game I’ve ever played. Naughty Dog continue to set the bar extremely high in terms of surroundings and facial animations, and the seamless transitions from cutscene to gameplay made my jaw drop. Each facial movement shows the hurt, the honesty, the devastation the characters carry with them. It almost feels more like a film or tv series than a video game, featuring an excellent performance from Troy Baker, and a career defining show from Ashley Johnson. Unfortunately, some of the new cast members don't have enough time on screen to give a full understanding of their personality or perspective. Some are likeable, relatable even, but some are just annoying, saying some of the strangest, out of place dialogue.
In terms of its gameplay, Part II hasn't really changed anything from its predecessor. It feels the same, whether you enjoyed it first time round or not. I personally am in the middle ground, it works for what it is. The Last of Us has always been a game about surviving by any means necessary. Part II feels like multiple ideas all in one, all conflicting themselves. Let me explain:
The game actively tries to twist the act of killing people to make you seem like its an awful thing to do. This is an interesting idea that has been done many times before in games, but it works in the oddest of ways here. I have completed the game twice now, and found it almost impossible to not kill anyone, yet cutscenes display remorse within the characters after they’ve murdered someone. This conflicts the idea of the whole game, where one moment I'm slicing a persons throat with a knife, the next I do the exact same, but this time I regret that decision. Again, its adding less weight to the story, and actively contradicting everything that happens.
Extra Notes:
The environments of Part II are some of the best in a video game. A sandbox of lush greenery and worn down buildings follows the same formula that Naughty Dog designed in Uncharted: The Lost Legacy, where you can explore a massive space to do what you find the objectives, but also see the sights and collect items. The level design of the entire game is absolutely masterful, but this level astounded me graphically and structurally.
By this point, it probably feels like I utterly hated Part II. I did, and didn’t, and thats the line I'm sticking on. The Last of Us always presented a commentary as to the nature of relationships, love, life and death. At the core was Ellie and Joel, two wayward strangers forced together on a journey across America. Everyone has a reason to love that game, for me its their chemistry and progression. Joel was hardened, standoffish, only to warm to Ellie, and love her by the end. Ellie, the immune girl who's humorous, optimistic and full of life, who ultimately becomes cold, quiet and sceptical of Joel.
Part II presents a different commentary, one of revenge and hate. I firmly believe Part II is weak in most areas, a downgrade in fact compared to its counterpart, but its so beautiful and bleak, with so many incapsulated moments of joy, heartbreak, love, shock. Its uncompromising, relentless and essential for anyone with a PS4. This will be a game I will constantly change my opinion on the more I think about it. As I said at the beginning, I never felt a sequel was necessary, and I firmly believe the story must end here.
(P.S. I must mention that Naughty Dog and Sony have only themselves to blame when it comes to the reception Part II has received during its release and promotional material. Early reviewers were told that they could only go into detail about the first ten or so hours, not mentioning the other fifteen. The other fifteen hours are incredibly important to mention, and they either make or break this game, so not letting reviewers do their job feels disingenuous, and from my point of view shows that they had no faith in their product to be criticised. The promotional material is also hugely misleading. The trailers show a completely different game, and characters are swapped for others in key scenes. That is wrong, and once again, shows your audience you had zero faith in your product based on the actual plot of your game.)
Acanthea Grimscythe (300 KP) rated Let the Right One In in Books
May 16, 2018
Several years ago, I had the pleasure (I think?) of watching the American remake of the film, Let the Right One In, which was titled Let Me In. I don’t remember any of it -only that I had found it interesting at the time. Undoubtedly, it had something to do with the fact that, during those years, I had an obsession with vampires. In fact, I gobbled up the Twilight books around then, and yes I am ashamed to admit that. Let the Right One In never crossed my mind again after that, until I received a box of books for free and found a copy of the Thomas Dunne Books translation inside it. Remembering the movie vaguely, and knowing the original version is among my boyfriend’s favorite films, I decided to give it a read and, once again, I am not in the least bit disappointed. I’m not sure if it’s a difference in what Americans find to be taboo in comparison to Swedish folk or what, but between John Ajvide Lindqvist and Stieg Larsson, I think I’m ready to delve deeper into Scandinavian novels!
Lindqvist has created for readers a completely deplorable cast of characters, ranging from Eli, the child, to her caretaker, Håkan Bengtsson. These characters aren’t hate-worthy in the same manner as Gone Girl‘s Amy Dunne, but rather in the way that they simply are. I won’t go too much into the details behind why I find the cast of this book to be unsavory, because I feel that just about anything I could say about the characters would, in one form or another, spoil the book; these characters and their flaws, which are bountiful, provide the book with so many unexpected twists and turns that just about anything that could be said might reveal something vital to the plot. Except for my favorite character, which, oddly enough, is Gösta. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that, like Gösta, I adore cats and it is extremely difficult for me to not want to take a stray in. (My boyfriend and I have too many, and I love them more than the entire world!)
The plot takes place over the course of about three weeks, beginning near the last week of October and ending on Friday, November 13. For a book of about five-hundred pages, that’s quite a few days to cover and often, that expanse of time, when it is written as detailed as Lindqvist has penned it, can seem like it simply drags on – that is not the case here. As I read, it felt more like a few days than several weeks, largely because the plot is fast paced and constantly moving. Because there isn’t a lot of exposition, there isn’t really much to slow the story down. Told from alternating perspectives, readers are given several different points of view of what’s going on, and from there it is relatively easy to come to your own conclusions regarding the story’s events as well as the behaviors of the various characters. Those I loathed, others might feel pity for, and vice versa.
Let the Right One In is a vampire novel, as I’ve alluded to earlier in this review; however, Lindqvist does not approach the idea of vampires in the same method that many books do presently. These are not romanticized vampires, but rather monsters. Horrible, bloodthirsty creatures that will rip out your throat, not sparkle – that’s what Lindqvist’s vampires are. This fact alone scores extra points with me, because I prefer vampires as the terrors they are meant to be, rather than the glorified, dark lovers that plague most contemporary literature.
My only gripe with this translation of Let the Right One In deals largely with its flow. While the story itself is excellent and the characters dynamic, the translation seemed to be a bit on the rough side. I do not speak Swedish. If I did, I wouldn’t have a use for the translated version of the story. That said, I know absolutely nothing of the language. Given that my major is in Creative Writing and that I have taken Linguistic courses, I do know that some languages have no tense – at least, not in the way that those of us that speak English view it. That said, there are many times in the translation that I was reading where the tense seemed to switch randomly, and I do not know if this was intentional or not. It was not an issue that I encountered while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo though, so it’s a bit hard for me to be forgiving about it.
This book was definitely worth the read, and I’m hoping that I’ll get a chance to watch the original film adaptation in the future – my boyfriend might have it, actually. I should check!
Lindqvist has created for readers a completely deplorable cast of characters, ranging from Eli, the child, to her caretaker, Håkan Bengtsson. These characters aren’t hate-worthy in the same manner as Gone Girl‘s Amy Dunne, but rather in the way that they simply are. I won’t go too much into the details behind why I find the cast of this book to be unsavory, because I feel that just about anything I could say about the characters would, in one form or another, spoil the book; these characters and their flaws, which are bountiful, provide the book with so many unexpected twists and turns that just about anything that could be said might reveal something vital to the plot. Except for my favorite character, which, oddly enough, is Gösta. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that, like Gösta, I adore cats and it is extremely difficult for me to not want to take a stray in. (My boyfriend and I have too many, and I love them more than the entire world!)
The plot takes place over the course of about three weeks, beginning near the last week of October and ending on Friday, November 13. For a book of about five-hundred pages, that’s quite a few days to cover and often, that expanse of time, when it is written as detailed as Lindqvist has penned it, can seem like it simply drags on – that is not the case here. As I read, it felt more like a few days than several weeks, largely because the plot is fast paced and constantly moving. Because there isn’t a lot of exposition, there isn’t really much to slow the story down. Told from alternating perspectives, readers are given several different points of view of what’s going on, and from there it is relatively easy to come to your own conclusions regarding the story’s events as well as the behaviors of the various characters. Those I loathed, others might feel pity for, and vice versa.
Let the Right One In is a vampire novel, as I’ve alluded to earlier in this review; however, Lindqvist does not approach the idea of vampires in the same method that many books do presently. These are not romanticized vampires, but rather monsters. Horrible, bloodthirsty creatures that will rip out your throat, not sparkle – that’s what Lindqvist’s vampires are. This fact alone scores extra points with me, because I prefer vampires as the terrors they are meant to be, rather than the glorified, dark lovers that plague most contemporary literature.
My only gripe with this translation of Let the Right One In deals largely with its flow. While the story itself is excellent and the characters dynamic, the translation seemed to be a bit on the rough side. I do not speak Swedish. If I did, I wouldn’t have a use for the translated version of the story. That said, I know absolutely nothing of the language. Given that my major is in Creative Writing and that I have taken Linguistic courses, I do know that some languages have no tense – at least, not in the way that those of us that speak English view it. That said, there are many times in the translation that I was reading where the tense seemed to switch randomly, and I do not know if this was intentional or not. It was not an issue that I encountered while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo though, so it’s a bit hard for me to be forgiving about it.
This book was definitely worth the read, and I’m hoping that I’ll get a chance to watch the original film adaptation in the future – my boyfriend might have it, actually. I should check!
Acanthea Grimscythe (300 KP) rated Let Me In in Books
May 16, 2018
Several years ago, I had the pleasure (I think?) of watching the American remake of the film, Let the Right One In, which was titled Let Me In. I don’t remember any of it -only that I had found it interesting at the time. Undoubtedly, it had something to do with the fact that, during those years, I had an obsession with vampires. In fact, I gobbled up the Twilight books around then, and yes I am ashamed to admit that. Let the Right One In never crossed my mind again after that, until I received a box of books for free and found a copy of the Thomas Dunne Books translation inside it. Remembering the movie vaguely, and knowing the original version is among my boyfriend’s favorite films, I decided to give it a read and, once again, I am not in the least bit disappointed. I’m not sure if it’s a difference in what Americans find to be taboo in comparison to Swedish folk or what, but between John Ajvide Lindqvist and Stieg Larsson, I think I’m ready to delve deeper into Scandinavian novels!
Lindqvist has created for readers a completely deplorable cast of characters, ranging from Eli, the child, to her caretaker, Håkan Bengtsson. These characters aren’t hate-worthy in the same manner as Gone Girl‘s Amy Dunne, but rather in the way that they simply are. I won’t go too much into the details behind why I find the cast of this book to be unsavory, because I feel that just about anything I could say about the characters would, in one form or another, spoil the book; these characters and their flaws, which are bountiful, provide the book with so many unexpected twists and turns that just about anything that could be said might reveal something vital to the plot. Except for my favorite character, which, oddly enough, is Gösta. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that, like Gösta, I adore cats and it is extremely difficult for me to not want to take a stray in. (My boyfriend and I have too many, and I love them more than the entire world!)
The plot takes place over the course of about three weeks, beginning near the last week of October and ending on Friday, November 13. For a book of about five-hundred pages, that’s quite a few days to cover and often, that expanse of time, when it is written as detailed as Lindqvist has penned it, can seem like it simply drags on – that is not the case here. As I read, it felt more like a few days than several weeks, largely because the plot is fast paced and constantly moving. Because there isn’t a lot of exposition, there isn’t really much to slow the story down. Told from alternating perspectives, readers are given several different points of view of what’s going on, and from there it is relatively easy to come to your own conclusions regarding the story’s events as well as the behaviors of the various characters. Those I loathed, others might feel pity for, and vice versa.
Let the Right One In is a vampire novel, as I’ve alluded to earlier in this review; however, Lindqvist does not approach the idea of vampires in the same method that many books do presently. These are not romanticized vampires, but rather monsters. Horrible, bloodthirsty creatures that will rip out your throat, not sparkle – that’s what Lindqvist’s vampires are. This fact alone scores extra points with me, because I prefer vampires as the terrors they are meant to be, rather than the glorified, dark lovers that plague most contemporary literature.
My only gripe with this translation of Let the Right One In deals largely with its flow. While the story itself is excellent and the characters dynamic, the translation seemed to be a bit on the rough side. I do not speak Swedish. If I did, I wouldn’t have a use for the translated version of the story. That said, I know absolutely nothing of the language. Given that my major is in Creative Writing and that I have taken Linguistic courses, I do know that some languages have no tense – at least, not in the way that those of us that speak English view it. That said, there are many times in the translation that I was reading where the tense seemed to switch randomly, and I do not know if this was intentional or not. It was not an issue that I encountered while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo though, so it’s a bit hard for me to be forgiving about it.
This book was definitely worth the read, and I’m hoping that I’ll get a chance to watch the original film adaptation in the future – my boyfriend might have it, actually. I should check!
Lindqvist has created for readers a completely deplorable cast of characters, ranging from Eli, the child, to her caretaker, Håkan Bengtsson. These characters aren’t hate-worthy in the same manner as Gone Girl‘s Amy Dunne, but rather in the way that they simply are. I won’t go too much into the details behind why I find the cast of this book to be unsavory, because I feel that just about anything I could say about the characters would, in one form or another, spoil the book; these characters and their flaws, which are bountiful, provide the book with so many unexpected twists and turns that just about anything that could be said might reveal something vital to the plot. Except for my favorite character, which, oddly enough, is Gösta. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that, like Gösta, I adore cats and it is extremely difficult for me to not want to take a stray in. (My boyfriend and I have too many, and I love them more than the entire world!)
The plot takes place over the course of about three weeks, beginning near the last week of October and ending on Friday, November 13. For a book of about five-hundred pages, that’s quite a few days to cover and often, that expanse of time, when it is written as detailed as Lindqvist has penned it, can seem like it simply drags on – that is not the case here. As I read, it felt more like a few days than several weeks, largely because the plot is fast paced and constantly moving. Because there isn’t a lot of exposition, there isn’t really much to slow the story down. Told from alternating perspectives, readers are given several different points of view of what’s going on, and from there it is relatively easy to come to your own conclusions regarding the story’s events as well as the behaviors of the various characters. Those I loathed, others might feel pity for, and vice versa.
Let the Right One In is a vampire novel, as I’ve alluded to earlier in this review; however, Lindqvist does not approach the idea of vampires in the same method that many books do presently. These are not romanticized vampires, but rather monsters. Horrible, bloodthirsty creatures that will rip out your throat, not sparkle – that’s what Lindqvist’s vampires are. This fact alone scores extra points with me, because I prefer vampires as the terrors they are meant to be, rather than the glorified, dark lovers that plague most contemporary literature.
My only gripe with this translation of Let the Right One In deals largely with its flow. While the story itself is excellent and the characters dynamic, the translation seemed to be a bit on the rough side. I do not speak Swedish. If I did, I wouldn’t have a use for the translated version of the story. That said, I know absolutely nothing of the language. Given that my major is in Creative Writing and that I have taken Linguistic courses, I do know that some languages have no tense – at least, not in the way that those of us that speak English view it. That said, there are many times in the translation that I was reading where the tense seemed to switch randomly, and I do not know if this was intentional or not. It was not an issue that I encountered while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo though, so it’s a bit hard for me to be forgiving about it.
This book was definitely worth the read, and I’m hoping that I’ll get a chance to watch the original film adaptation in the future – my boyfriend might have it, actually. I should check!
graveyardgremlin (7194 KP) rated Magic in the Wind (Drake Sisters, #1) in Books
Feb 15, 2019
The first few chapters of MItW started off well enough, the author captured the coastal town atmosphere perfectly, however, after that it got a little, okay at times a lot, cheesy and eye-roll-inducing. Romances don't have to be that sticky-sweet. What was different and interesting is that the narration was mainly told through the male lead instead of the female; there's not too much of that in romances. The only downfall to the story being told this way was Damon waxing poetic about Sarah the Mysterious, Sarah the Magical, Sarah the Magnificent, Sarah, She Who Walks on Water - seriously, what a Mary-Sue. I'm surprised people didn't address her as Saint Sarah. Everyone in town follows her "advice" (basically she tells them what to do in a roundabout way and they listen), seeks her out to magically fix all their problems, act like she's a goddess, combined, this all made it ten times worse. They just follow her like brainless zombies and never get upset at her poking her nose in their business (not that they all don't do the same in everybody else's). Even though all of that was nauseating, she wasn't the worst Mary-Sue I've run across (Why o' why are there so many of them? Is there a writer's manual on how to write a paragon so that everything they touch, everywhere they go, everyone they meet, they're held up as a supreme being? I wish I was perfect too. :P) and she had magic, so that makes it all the more unfair. Although, who is Sarah besides the saint of this small coastal town? I have no clue, she was never made real, I actually envisioned a golden aura around her like she's some sort of angelic being or something, which is at total odds with her tough defender super hero side. Some girls have all the luck. She has magic, she's as kind as can be, she's perfect in every way (except she's not conventionally beautiful or something, the description was kind of unclear), so of course everyone loves her, she's peaceful and she gets to kick a** like she's Buffy? No freaking way. Where can I sign up?
Another annoyance was "painfully shy" Hannah, one of Sarah's six sisters. Hannah is apparently a model who travels the world, is on magazines, goes on talk shows, etc., even though she is painfully shy. Hey, I can believe someone famous has trouble like that, my problem comes from her "condition" being described as "painfully shy" all the time. It is mentioned in that exact same way, it's never really shy, very shy, extremely shy, or even just plain old shy, no it has to be "painfully shy." In truth, it was only said three times (that I noticed), but in a story that is only around ninety pages, it really sticks out, especially since it was awkwardly brought into the plot. I have a hard time believing this is only shyness, try social phobia or at the very least, some anxiety disorder. Why hasn't she had psychological care? The only remedies mentioned are magical spells and whatnot. While I'm on the subject of Hannah, of whom I know more about personality-wise than Sarah, I might as well mention the jeering and taunting between Jona, the town sheriff, and herself. These interactions are so over-the-top and obvious; we all know where this is going to lead in a future book. And not one of the sisters or Damon notices what is right in front of them. How can they be so imperceptive? What are they, seven? Although I have to admit I'd hate to be called "Baby" or "Barbie" doll too, but then again, I don't look like a Victoria's Secret model, Hannah does.
As for the plot, it was barely there, more time was spent on introducing the sisters, their legacy, characters that went nowhere, and having Sarah sit on a pedestal. Damon would have been more interesting if this had been made into a full-length book - I like the idea of a scientist being confronted with magic - but there just wasn't enough there for a cohesive story. I usually don't write much about short stories but had a lot to say about this one. Obviously. I'm interested in the sisters' stories, I try not to judge authors solely based on a short story, so I will check them out, especially Hannah's. As someone who's been "painfully shy" (couldn't resist) her whole life, my interest has been piqued to see how the author develops Hannah and her shyness in that installment of the series.
I was thinking of giving this an average rating but after writing my review and thinking back on the story, it's just not that good.
2/5 stars
Another annoyance was "painfully shy" Hannah, one of Sarah's six sisters. Hannah is apparently a model who travels the world, is on magazines, goes on talk shows, etc., even though she is painfully shy. Hey, I can believe someone famous has trouble like that, my problem comes from her "condition" being described as "painfully shy" all the time. It is mentioned in that exact same way, it's never really shy, very shy, extremely shy, or even just plain old shy, no it has to be "painfully shy." In truth, it was only said three times (that I noticed), but in a story that is only around ninety pages, it really sticks out, especially since it was awkwardly brought into the plot. I have a hard time believing this is only shyness, try social phobia or at the very least, some anxiety disorder. Why hasn't she had psychological care? The only remedies mentioned are magical spells and whatnot. While I'm on the subject of Hannah, of whom I know more about personality-wise than Sarah, I might as well mention the jeering and taunting between Jona, the town sheriff, and herself. These interactions are so over-the-top and obvious; we all know where this is going to lead in a future book. And not one of the sisters or Damon notices what is right in front of them. How can they be so imperceptive? What are they, seven? Although I have to admit I'd hate to be called "Baby" or "Barbie" doll too, but then again, I don't look like a Victoria's Secret model, Hannah does.
As for the plot, it was barely there, more time was spent on introducing the sisters, their legacy, characters that went nowhere, and having Sarah sit on a pedestal. Damon would have been more interesting if this had been made into a full-length book - I like the idea of a scientist being confronted with magic - but there just wasn't enough there for a cohesive story. I usually don't write much about short stories but had a lot to say about this one. Obviously. I'm interested in the sisters' stories, I try not to judge authors solely based on a short story, so I will check them out, especially Hannah's. As someone who's been "painfully shy" (couldn't resist) her whole life, my interest has been piqued to see how the author develops Hannah and her shyness in that installment of the series.
I was thinking of giving this an average rating but after writing my review and thinking back on the story, it's just not that good.
2/5 stars
TheDefunctDiva (304 KP) rated Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) in Movies
Feb 17, 2019 (Updated Feb 17, 2019)
I want it all. I want it all. I want it all. And I want it now
Contains spoilers, click to show
“I want it all. I want it all. I want it all. And I want it now.”
“I Want It All,” Queen, The Miracle, 1989
I am hating having to write this review though I feel compelled to do so. I bought this movie knowing I would like it. I didn’t have much money left in my checking account, but I thought, yes, this would be worth what little I had left to spend. I gifted it to my kiddo for Valentine’s Day knowing she would surely love it, too.
I didn’t love it. I didn’t even really like it.
I haven’t made a mistake this bad since the much-renowned Lost in Translation. Why the ire? Because Bohemian Rhapsody taught me some things, but not enough. Not what I wanted to know. I wanted to learn more than what a rudimentary Google search would have taught me about the band. Instead, I obtained only basic information about the band’s success. I think to really do the band justice you would need a series. Maybe that is my problem. The film had too much general information crammed into it, and I needed MORE, PEOPLE.
I should have liked this film because it revolved around Queen’s music. The best thing about this film is the soundtrack. I think contemplating some of Queen’s lyrics throughout would have really enhanced the film, though. They talked about the poetry but didn’t examine it. And I was disappointed.
Malek’s Mercury just didn’t do it for me though I admire his dedication to the craft. I do think he did an excellent job, but there was something missing that I can’t put my finger on. It felt very much like pretending. And I can’t even adequately explain why. I did love the costuming though. Especially the hair. The transformation of Mercury from boy to man was impressive. It made me want to grow a mustache.
The supporting characters were stereotypical. The supporting cast members might have been cardboard cutouts for all of the attachment I felt to them. The film also didn’t undertake the concept of what it meant to be LGBT in that era. Therefore, it didn’t fully explore the ramifications of the risks that Mercury was taking both professionally and personally. Conflicts just didn’t resonate with the high drama I felt they should have especially considering the in-your-face elements of Mercury’s personality. The passion just wasn’t there. And a real miracle would have been adequately examining the collaboration between the musicians.
I also felt the film was generally stilted by the writing, which seemed comprised of the most overused clichés in the English language.
Bohemian Rhapsody didn’t delve into the AIDS crisis deep enough to evoke much of an emotional response in me. I appreciate that Freddie Mercury didn’t want his life to be a “cautionary tale.” I get that. But the tragedy of his death seemed really downplayed to me for some reason. I wasn’t expecting the emotional response you would get from a film like Philadelphia. But something close would have been nice. Maybe I’ve seen too many films that focus on tragedy and expected to be weeping by the end of the film. Or the beginning of the film, or at any point during the film. But I was left feeling hollow.
The crowd scene from Live Aid and the Live Aid performance rightfully stole what remained of this show. The looks on the faces of the crowd. The expanse of the crowd. The scene reflected what it must have felt like to be a performer or a fan in such a large venue. Malek was awesome in this scene and deserves his due. It might be what earns him the Oscar.
I hate to say it, but I liked Mark Wahlberg and Rock Star (2001) better than I liked this movie. I just felt they could have done a better job with it. It didn’t live up to the hype.
And now I’ve touched upon the real issue. I could never get enough of this band, or of Mercury, and DAMNIT. The experience they provided fans around the world was just gone too soon.
And I just don’t feel the movie did the band or Mercury’s life justice.
I spent my Saturday listening to music in my car, wondering what a septuagenarian Mercury would have thought of today’s saturated music market. I imagine he would have been like my late father, fascinated by both the popular and the underground.
Ok, NOW I’m crying.
But touch my tears, with your lips
Touch my world, with your fingertips.
And we can have forever
And we can love forever
Forever is our today…
Queen, “Who Wants to Live Forever,” It’s Kind of Magic, 1986
“I Want It All,” Queen, The Miracle, 1989
I am hating having to write this review though I feel compelled to do so. I bought this movie knowing I would like it. I didn’t have much money left in my checking account, but I thought, yes, this would be worth what little I had left to spend. I gifted it to my kiddo for Valentine’s Day knowing she would surely love it, too.
I didn’t love it. I didn’t even really like it.
I haven’t made a mistake this bad since the much-renowned Lost in Translation. Why the ire? Because Bohemian Rhapsody taught me some things, but not enough. Not what I wanted to know. I wanted to learn more than what a rudimentary Google search would have taught me about the band. Instead, I obtained only basic information about the band’s success. I think to really do the band justice you would need a series. Maybe that is my problem. The film had too much general information crammed into it, and I needed MORE, PEOPLE.
I should have liked this film because it revolved around Queen’s music. The best thing about this film is the soundtrack. I think contemplating some of Queen’s lyrics throughout would have really enhanced the film, though. They talked about the poetry but didn’t examine it. And I was disappointed.
Malek’s Mercury just didn’t do it for me though I admire his dedication to the craft. I do think he did an excellent job, but there was something missing that I can’t put my finger on. It felt very much like pretending. And I can’t even adequately explain why. I did love the costuming though. Especially the hair. The transformation of Mercury from boy to man was impressive. It made me want to grow a mustache.
The supporting characters were stereotypical. The supporting cast members might have been cardboard cutouts for all of the attachment I felt to them. The film also didn’t undertake the concept of what it meant to be LGBT in that era. Therefore, it didn’t fully explore the ramifications of the risks that Mercury was taking both professionally and personally. Conflicts just didn’t resonate with the high drama I felt they should have especially considering the in-your-face elements of Mercury’s personality. The passion just wasn’t there. And a real miracle would have been adequately examining the collaboration between the musicians.
I also felt the film was generally stilted by the writing, which seemed comprised of the most overused clichés in the English language.
Bohemian Rhapsody didn’t delve into the AIDS crisis deep enough to evoke much of an emotional response in me. I appreciate that Freddie Mercury didn’t want his life to be a “cautionary tale.” I get that. But the tragedy of his death seemed really downplayed to me for some reason. I wasn’t expecting the emotional response you would get from a film like Philadelphia. But something close would have been nice. Maybe I’ve seen too many films that focus on tragedy and expected to be weeping by the end of the film. Or the beginning of the film, or at any point during the film. But I was left feeling hollow.
The crowd scene from Live Aid and the Live Aid performance rightfully stole what remained of this show. The looks on the faces of the crowd. The expanse of the crowd. The scene reflected what it must have felt like to be a performer or a fan in such a large venue. Malek was awesome in this scene and deserves his due. It might be what earns him the Oscar.
I hate to say it, but I liked Mark Wahlberg and Rock Star (2001) better than I liked this movie. I just felt they could have done a better job with it. It didn’t live up to the hype.
And now I’ve touched upon the real issue. I could never get enough of this band, or of Mercury, and DAMNIT. The experience they provided fans around the world was just gone too soon.
And I just don’t feel the movie did the band or Mercury’s life justice.
I spent my Saturday listening to music in my car, wondering what a septuagenarian Mercury would have thought of today’s saturated music market. I imagine he would have been like my late father, fascinated by both the popular and the underground.
Ok, NOW I’m crying.
But touch my tears, with your lips
Touch my world, with your fingertips.
And we can have forever
And we can love forever
Forever is our today…
Queen, “Who Wants to Live Forever,” It’s Kind of Magic, 1986
Ryan Hill (152 KP) rated Black Panther (2018) in Movies
May 11, 2019
"Bury me in the ocean with my ancestors who jumped from the ships, 'cause they knew death was better than bondage"
Full of life, joy, sorrow, and hilarity; Ryan Coogler's Black Panther just has a vibrancy you rarely find in the superhero scene, let alone blockbusters. Enriched with a deep, abiding love for African culture and Afrofuturism; the movie just feels purposeful. Important. Meaningful. Context matters here, as Black Panther will become one of very few films populated by African Americans not dealing with slavery or black history to thrive financially. And that cast is phenomenal. Boseman's soft-spoken panther-of-few-words is the rare MCUer to opt for a moment of silence rather than a snarky comment. Michael B Jordan brings an unmistakable swagger to the perpetually weak slate of Marvel villains, conveying a crushingly sad and challenging story that could just as easily be regarded as the true hero of the film. Letitia Wright as the genius tech maestro was a blast, a character who could give Tony Stark a run for his money both technologically and charismatically. And these are just three of Coogler's creations; drawn from a slate of inspired, unique and wonderfully represented roles for black actors...many of whom will deservingly use this as a career springboard of sorts.
I remember years ago I read a book about the cultural significance of various comic book locales, and the Wakanda entry struck me as uniquely sad and inspiring. Wakanda, a place busting with innovation, tradition, and pride...hidden from the world. Sort of an alternate-timeline Africa which wasn't poisoned irreparably by colonialism and all its horrors. There's a sad duality obvious in this Wakanda, that being for it to exist, it must be hidden. Must be quietly nurtured, developed and treasured. It's an apt metaphor in relation to black pride, culture, and history; something constantly being reworked, reshaped and reimagined to put a sordid past (and present) in the rear-view mirror by those who perpetrate it, knowingly or not. This idea, that for something to thrive it must be isolated, is at the heart of Black Panther. You can understand why T'Challa, and generations before him, sacrificed anything to preserve the myth of Wakanda. But you can also understand Killmonger's feeling of betrayal. The profound moral objections inherent in a small community turning it's back on a larger suffering population in the name of self-preservation. There's no heroes and villains when Black Panther is at it's best, just two sides to a terrifying moral question *loaded* with historical weight.
Because Killmonger isn't really a villain. The best illustration of this is the contrasting "dream" sequences, in which T'Challa shares a promise with his father within a transcendentally beautiful African landscape, and Killmonger is confronted by all his pain, suffering and moral rigidity in the vast concrete jungle of Oakland, in the tiny apartment where his father was murdered for trying to make a difference. They both wake up with tears in their eyes, some from pain and some from catharsis. Coogler marks the chasm between T'Challa's and Killmonger's pasts so perfectly, and illustrates exactly why they feel the way they do with such wisdom. Black Panther so clearly empathizes with Killmonger and understands where his pain was born, and the horrors that nurtured it.
And so there's no hero and no villain to this movie. Just two men in nearly identical black panther suits, clashing over how Wakanda ought to venture into a new era. Nobility and passion, conservation and sacrifice, incremental change against a vengeful redistribution of power and oppression. Both men are correct in their aspirations, being "right" here doesn't matter. it's tough for a good man to be king. Killmonger made T'Challa the hero he is, by instilling in him a mission, a perceived duty to turn around, face an oppressed people and finally lend a hand. But more than that, there's something miraculous here. An apology from a good man. A recognition of a sin even when it's perpetrator was, until now, helpless to prevent it. A declaration that not contributing to hate and prejudice doesn't equate to actively working to prevent it. A plea for a humble brand of superheroism, for countless ghosts of the past to be heard and change to erupt in their name. Divides to be bridged, chasms to be crossed and wrongs to be righted.
Black Panther has a complex, meaningful and profoundly challenging thematic framework; offering a fresh dissection of what it means to grapple with the sins of those who came before. Sure, there are some technical issues along the way, the machinations of Marvel storytelling are evident and errors could be found; but if you understand that superhero stories were meant to ask these sorts of questions and push boundaries since their inception; Black Panther is a dream.
I remember years ago I read a book about the cultural significance of various comic book locales, and the Wakanda entry struck me as uniquely sad and inspiring. Wakanda, a place busting with innovation, tradition, and pride...hidden from the world. Sort of an alternate-timeline Africa which wasn't poisoned irreparably by colonialism and all its horrors. There's a sad duality obvious in this Wakanda, that being for it to exist, it must be hidden. Must be quietly nurtured, developed and treasured. It's an apt metaphor in relation to black pride, culture, and history; something constantly being reworked, reshaped and reimagined to put a sordid past (and present) in the rear-view mirror by those who perpetrate it, knowingly or not. This idea, that for something to thrive it must be isolated, is at the heart of Black Panther. You can understand why T'Challa, and generations before him, sacrificed anything to preserve the myth of Wakanda. But you can also understand Killmonger's feeling of betrayal. The profound moral objections inherent in a small community turning it's back on a larger suffering population in the name of self-preservation. There's no heroes and villains when Black Panther is at it's best, just two sides to a terrifying moral question *loaded* with historical weight.
Because Killmonger isn't really a villain. The best illustration of this is the contrasting "dream" sequences, in which T'Challa shares a promise with his father within a transcendentally beautiful African landscape, and Killmonger is confronted by all his pain, suffering and moral rigidity in the vast concrete jungle of Oakland, in the tiny apartment where his father was murdered for trying to make a difference. They both wake up with tears in their eyes, some from pain and some from catharsis. Coogler marks the chasm between T'Challa's and Killmonger's pasts so perfectly, and illustrates exactly why they feel the way they do with such wisdom. Black Panther so clearly empathizes with Killmonger and understands where his pain was born, and the horrors that nurtured it.
And so there's no hero and no villain to this movie. Just two men in nearly identical black panther suits, clashing over how Wakanda ought to venture into a new era. Nobility and passion, conservation and sacrifice, incremental change against a vengeful redistribution of power and oppression. Both men are correct in their aspirations, being "right" here doesn't matter. it's tough for a good man to be king. Killmonger made T'Challa the hero he is, by instilling in him a mission, a perceived duty to turn around, face an oppressed people and finally lend a hand. But more than that, there's something miraculous here. An apology from a good man. A recognition of a sin even when it's perpetrator was, until now, helpless to prevent it. A declaration that not contributing to hate and prejudice doesn't equate to actively working to prevent it. A plea for a humble brand of superheroism, for countless ghosts of the past to be heard and change to erupt in their name. Divides to be bridged, chasms to be crossed and wrongs to be righted.
Black Panther has a complex, meaningful and profoundly challenging thematic framework; offering a fresh dissection of what it means to grapple with the sins of those who came before. Sure, there are some technical issues along the way, the machinations of Marvel storytelling are evident and errors could be found; but if you understand that superhero stories were meant to ask these sorts of questions and push boundaries since their inception; Black Panther is a dream.
Movie Metropolis (309 KP) rated The Predator (2018) in Movies
Jun 10, 2019
A soft reboot that actually works
1987; feels like a long time ago doesn’t it? In fact, most of you reading this I imagine weren’t even born way back in the late 80s. I mean, I was only a twinkle in my parents’ eyes at that time. But I digress.
What’s so special about 1987? Well, it was the year that Arnold Schwarzenegger kicked serious alien butt in the first Predator movie. Of course, the franchise’s now infamous fall from grace is the stuff of legend, and along with Alien, the original remains a true high point in the sci-fi horror genre.
Rebooted for 2018 with Iron Man 3 director Shane Black at the helm, The Predator aims to revitalise the public’s interest in this flagging horror franchise. Looking at Shane Black’s unusual resume, he seems a strange choice to take charge here, but we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. But just how good, or bad, is The Predator?
From the outer reaches of space to the small-town streets of suburbia, the hunt comes home. The universe’s most lethal hunters are stronger, smarter and deadlier than ever before, having genetically upgraded themselves with DNA from other species. When a boy accidentally triggers their return to Earth, only a ragtag crew of ex-soldiers and an evolutionary biologist can prevent the end of the human race.
The aforementioned ragtag crew of ex-soldiers includes Boyd Holbrook, a vastly underused presence in last year’s Logan, that thankfully receives much higher billing here. Trevante Rhodes, Keegan-Michael Key, Thomas Jane and Augusto Aguilera make up the rest of the team and whilst their backstories are limited to one scene on a bus, they feel fleshed out enough to carry the film.
Less successful is Olivia Munn’s Casey Bracket. Biologist and when required by the screenwriters, experienced military personnel, she’s probably the most badass biologist you’ll see on screen this decade, when the script requires it of course.
Finally, we have the ridiculously talented Jacob Tremblay as Holbrooks son, Rory. His subplot which surrounds his daily struggles with autism is poorly realised but should be praised for bringing awareness to the condition in a mainstream Hollywood film.
Thankfully, Shane Black injects his trademark dark humour throughout and surprisingly, it works better than I had anticipated. The jokes are well-placed across the running time and each one manages to at least raise a titter.
Now let’s get to the part everyone reading this is interested in; the Predator’s return. Portrayed by stuntman Brian A. Prince, this Predator is virtually identical to the 1987 original in every way. And that’s a good thing, because when the 11ft hybrid shows up, it spoils the party a little. Rendered in CGI, rather than practical effects, its movements are a little too fluid and lack that sense of realism you get with a real man in a suit. The addition of the Predator Dogs however is an inspired choice and they work well despite some sloppy CG at times.
The Predator is a confident film with a cracking sense of humour, good special effects and just enough call-backs to please series diehards
Nevertheless, the film is shot very well and the copious amounts of gore are both restrained and animalistic. It earns its 15 rating most definitely as the Predator works its way through a massive number of victims, but it never crosses the line in which you’d have people saying ‘enough is enough’.
The special effects are on the whole, very good indeed. Considering a relatively modest $88million budget, there are only a few instances of poor CGI and the practical effects used throughout are a nice touch. It’s a shame then that there are some case of poor editing in the film however. A couple of character decisions will leave you scratching your head as you wonder how on earth our band of heroes managed to figure out certain problems.
But this is very much fan service to the original and for that, you’ll either love or hate it. There are many references to its predecessors, some subtle, some smack you in the face obvious. The classic Arnie line “get to the chopper” is there, but that’s definitely in the latter camp, and it’s one reference that doesn’t quite hit the spot.
Overall, The Predator is definitely the best film since the original, although that really isn’t saying much. And that’s a little bit of a disservice to what Shane black and the cast has managed to achieve. It’s a confident film with a cracking sense of humour, good special effects and just enough call-backs to please series diehards. Is it a horror movie like the original was classed to be? Absolutely not. But it’s worth a watch for both Predator fans and those looking to scratch their sci-fi itch.
https://moviemetropolis.net/2018/09/14/the-predator-review-a-soft-reboot-that-actually-works/
What’s so special about 1987? Well, it was the year that Arnold Schwarzenegger kicked serious alien butt in the first Predator movie. Of course, the franchise’s now infamous fall from grace is the stuff of legend, and along with Alien, the original remains a true high point in the sci-fi horror genre.
Rebooted for 2018 with Iron Man 3 director Shane Black at the helm, The Predator aims to revitalise the public’s interest in this flagging horror franchise. Looking at Shane Black’s unusual resume, he seems a strange choice to take charge here, but we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. But just how good, or bad, is The Predator?
From the outer reaches of space to the small-town streets of suburbia, the hunt comes home. The universe’s most lethal hunters are stronger, smarter and deadlier than ever before, having genetically upgraded themselves with DNA from other species. When a boy accidentally triggers their return to Earth, only a ragtag crew of ex-soldiers and an evolutionary biologist can prevent the end of the human race.
The aforementioned ragtag crew of ex-soldiers includes Boyd Holbrook, a vastly underused presence in last year’s Logan, that thankfully receives much higher billing here. Trevante Rhodes, Keegan-Michael Key, Thomas Jane and Augusto Aguilera make up the rest of the team and whilst their backstories are limited to one scene on a bus, they feel fleshed out enough to carry the film.
Less successful is Olivia Munn’s Casey Bracket. Biologist and when required by the screenwriters, experienced military personnel, she’s probably the most badass biologist you’ll see on screen this decade, when the script requires it of course.
Finally, we have the ridiculously talented Jacob Tremblay as Holbrooks son, Rory. His subplot which surrounds his daily struggles with autism is poorly realised but should be praised for bringing awareness to the condition in a mainstream Hollywood film.
Thankfully, Shane Black injects his trademark dark humour throughout and surprisingly, it works better than I had anticipated. The jokes are well-placed across the running time and each one manages to at least raise a titter.
Now let’s get to the part everyone reading this is interested in; the Predator’s return. Portrayed by stuntman Brian A. Prince, this Predator is virtually identical to the 1987 original in every way. And that’s a good thing, because when the 11ft hybrid shows up, it spoils the party a little. Rendered in CGI, rather than practical effects, its movements are a little too fluid and lack that sense of realism you get with a real man in a suit. The addition of the Predator Dogs however is an inspired choice and they work well despite some sloppy CG at times.
The Predator is a confident film with a cracking sense of humour, good special effects and just enough call-backs to please series diehards
Nevertheless, the film is shot very well and the copious amounts of gore are both restrained and animalistic. It earns its 15 rating most definitely as the Predator works its way through a massive number of victims, but it never crosses the line in which you’d have people saying ‘enough is enough’.
The special effects are on the whole, very good indeed. Considering a relatively modest $88million budget, there are only a few instances of poor CGI and the practical effects used throughout are a nice touch. It’s a shame then that there are some case of poor editing in the film however. A couple of character decisions will leave you scratching your head as you wonder how on earth our band of heroes managed to figure out certain problems.
But this is very much fan service to the original and for that, you’ll either love or hate it. There are many references to its predecessors, some subtle, some smack you in the face obvious. The classic Arnie line “get to the chopper” is there, but that’s definitely in the latter camp, and it’s one reference that doesn’t quite hit the spot.
Overall, The Predator is definitely the best film since the original, although that really isn’t saying much. And that’s a little bit of a disservice to what Shane black and the cast has managed to achieve. It’s a confident film with a cracking sense of humour, good special effects and just enough call-backs to please series diehards. Is it a horror movie like the original was classed to be? Absolutely not. But it’s worth a watch for both Predator fans and those looking to scratch their sci-fi itch.
https://moviemetropolis.net/2018/09/14/the-predator-review-a-soft-reboot-that-actually-works/
Movie Metropolis (309 KP) rated World War Z (2013) in Movies
Jun 11, 2019
Brad Pitt has become one of Hollywood’s best loved actors over the years and it isn’t difficult to see why. His chiselled good looks, slick blonde hair and quiet confidence have all ensured he is never short of work. Here, he teams up with director Marc Forster who helmed the disappointing James Bond sequel, Quantum of Solace, in the latest zombie film to hit the screens; World War Z, but is it any good?
Pitt plays Gerry Lane, a former UN investigator who has chosen the quiet life and retired early to spend more time with his wife and children. Whilst taking his wife Karin and two daughters Rachel and Constance out in the car, they become stuck in heavy traffic which marks the start of the mayhem. From then on this 116 minute thrill ride puts the viewer on the edge of their seat more times than an Alton Towers rollercoaster.
After fleeing the hordes of ridiculously fast and ridiculously terrifying undead, Lane and his family board a US aircraft carrier where they are told they will be safe; however, as always, there is a price to pay. Gerry must start work once again to try and find the epicentre of the zombie virus – otherwise, the entire world will be lost. From here, Gerry’s mission is to travel across the globe trying to find what it is that has infected nearly 100% of the planet’s population.
What plays out could be described as a formulaic horror film, but it is so much more than that. Whilst it’s true that there isn’t enough character development, in fact there is only 5 minutes of it right at the beginning, director Marc Forster has cleverly allowed the audience to make up their own minds about the family’s back story and whether we care if they survive or not.
World War Z is not a film for the faint hearted, and whilst blood and guts are quite sparse for a movie with a 15 certificate, there are some truly terrifying moments, many of which will have your heart pumping through your chest.
There are scenes here that really get the adrenaline flowing, one of which involving a stowaway zombie onboard a commercial jet will leave you biting your lip, grabbing your seat and looking through your fingers in shock, horror and intense excitement. It’s safe to say I came away with very bitten fingernails.
Special effects are on par with some of the better blockbusters of the last couple of years. They aren’t as in your face as those in Transformers, nor as lacklustre as the CGI in I am Legend, they are right in the middle and because the effect is used incredibly subtly, you don’t notice when extras stop playing the zombies and the animators take over.
However, it is in the acting that this film really succeeds. Pitt is fantastic as Gerry Lane, his quiet sense of confidence never turns into arrogance as he fights for survival and this will hold the character in high esteem with audiences. He doesn’t pretend to be an action hero, heck, he even makes the kind of mistakes that any human would do if they were under pressure, and thankfully he does all of this beautifully; his characterisation is absolute perfection. The rest of his family are also excellent, Abigail Hargrove and Sterling Jerins who play Rachel and Constance respectively are very good indeed; you truly believe they are missing their father and cannot wait to see him return. The rest of the cast do very well with the limited roles they have, but let’s not forget that this is a Brad Pitt one-man show and he is more than up to the job.
Unfortunately, the cinematography really lets the film down. There is far too much handy-cam in the first 30 minutes, something which I hate. Directors often use it to sustain a sense of alarm and terror, but Marc Forster has used it to such an extent here that it made me feel physically sick. Moreover, whilst the story is solid, it is nothing more than that, and often the plot takes a back seat to the impressive action pieces meaning that the film seems to go through the motions of 10 minutes plot, 10 action, and so on.
Overall, World War Z is a very impressive film. The sheer scale of the virus means that Marc Forster has utilised some beautiful scenery from across the globe. Whilst it may be slightly too long for a zombie film at just under 2 hours, and have a distinct lack of character development; the impressive story, brilliant acting and very good special effects help lift it above the norm. This is a ride better than any rollercoaster, and is 100% worth the increasingly expensive price of a cinema admission ticket.
https://moviemetropolis.net/2013/06/22/world-war-z-review-2013/
Pitt plays Gerry Lane, a former UN investigator who has chosen the quiet life and retired early to spend more time with his wife and children. Whilst taking his wife Karin and two daughters Rachel and Constance out in the car, they become stuck in heavy traffic which marks the start of the mayhem. From then on this 116 minute thrill ride puts the viewer on the edge of their seat more times than an Alton Towers rollercoaster.
After fleeing the hordes of ridiculously fast and ridiculously terrifying undead, Lane and his family board a US aircraft carrier where they are told they will be safe; however, as always, there is a price to pay. Gerry must start work once again to try and find the epicentre of the zombie virus – otherwise, the entire world will be lost. From here, Gerry’s mission is to travel across the globe trying to find what it is that has infected nearly 100% of the planet’s population.
What plays out could be described as a formulaic horror film, but it is so much more than that. Whilst it’s true that there isn’t enough character development, in fact there is only 5 minutes of it right at the beginning, director Marc Forster has cleverly allowed the audience to make up their own minds about the family’s back story and whether we care if they survive or not.
World War Z is not a film for the faint hearted, and whilst blood and guts are quite sparse for a movie with a 15 certificate, there are some truly terrifying moments, many of which will have your heart pumping through your chest.
There are scenes here that really get the adrenaline flowing, one of which involving a stowaway zombie onboard a commercial jet will leave you biting your lip, grabbing your seat and looking through your fingers in shock, horror and intense excitement. It’s safe to say I came away with very bitten fingernails.
Special effects are on par with some of the better blockbusters of the last couple of years. They aren’t as in your face as those in Transformers, nor as lacklustre as the CGI in I am Legend, they are right in the middle and because the effect is used incredibly subtly, you don’t notice when extras stop playing the zombies and the animators take over.
However, it is in the acting that this film really succeeds. Pitt is fantastic as Gerry Lane, his quiet sense of confidence never turns into arrogance as he fights for survival and this will hold the character in high esteem with audiences. He doesn’t pretend to be an action hero, heck, he even makes the kind of mistakes that any human would do if they were under pressure, and thankfully he does all of this beautifully; his characterisation is absolute perfection. The rest of his family are also excellent, Abigail Hargrove and Sterling Jerins who play Rachel and Constance respectively are very good indeed; you truly believe they are missing their father and cannot wait to see him return. The rest of the cast do very well with the limited roles they have, but let’s not forget that this is a Brad Pitt one-man show and he is more than up to the job.
Unfortunately, the cinematography really lets the film down. There is far too much handy-cam in the first 30 minutes, something which I hate. Directors often use it to sustain a sense of alarm and terror, but Marc Forster has used it to such an extent here that it made me feel physically sick. Moreover, whilst the story is solid, it is nothing more than that, and often the plot takes a back seat to the impressive action pieces meaning that the film seems to go through the motions of 10 minutes plot, 10 action, and so on.
Overall, World War Z is a very impressive film. The sheer scale of the virus means that Marc Forster has utilised some beautiful scenery from across the globe. Whilst it may be slightly too long for a zombie film at just under 2 hours, and have a distinct lack of character development; the impressive story, brilliant acting and very good special effects help lift it above the norm. This is a ride better than any rollercoaster, and is 100% worth the increasingly expensive price of a cinema admission ticket.
https://moviemetropolis.net/2013/06/22/world-war-z-review-2013/