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Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated Total Recall (2012) in Movies
Aug 7, 2019
Remaking classic films is always risky business. Mainly because there is a specific reason those movies are so well received – because they are the best of their time. Remakes are inherently risky because the filmmakers have a bar they have to at least reach, and they absolutely cannot tread the exact same ground as the original. They have to do something new, modern, or innovate. Or, at least they are expected to. When remakes work, they soar. When they don’t… Well, that’s another story. Paul Verhoeven’s “Total Recall” (1990) was an excellent science fiction monolith of its time. It stood out as a heartfelt science fiction story, one that was exceptionally aware of its own identity, design, and overall setting. It reflected the vary soul of its time – intentionally representational of culture at the time (late 80s and early 90s). If Len Wiseman’s remake, “Total Recall” (2012) is supposed to be a representation of contemporary culture in the same way as the original, then I fear our popular culture is too shallow for high minded science fiction. While not a bad movie – in fact, it is actually quite entertaining overall – it just does not feature the same soul and passion of the original film.
The premise follows the original in only a rough sense. Sometime in the future, the world has been left mostly uninhabitable due to a deadly chemical war across the globe. Humanity has been left to residing in the only remaining habitable landmasses – Western Europe and “The Colony”, the latter being modern-day Australia. Because air travel is now impossible, the only travel between the landmasses is through a massive elevator called “The Fall” that cuts through the center of the Earth. Douglas Quaid (Colin Farrell) is a factory worker who works in Europe but lives in “The Colony” with his wife, Lori (Kate Beckinstale). His chronic nightmares lead him to become interested in the “Rekall” service – a machine that can implant memories into customers. His interest will lead him on a wild journey with Melina (Jessica Biel) to learn about his true self as well as secrets of Cohaagen’s (Bryan Cranston) tyrannical administration.
The problems of the film really start with the premise. While I enjoy the creativity of something like “The Fall”, it is simply too ridiculous to take seriously. They deserve credit for coming up with a relatively unknown science fiction concept, but an elevator that travels through the center of the Earth? Peoples’ suspension of disbelief can only be pushed so far. It serves a practical purpose in the plot – to create the conflict between “The Colony” and the mainland and between the government and the Resistance. Yet, too much time is spent trying to introduce this concept and make it seem plausible than the film should. It honestly seems easier to just use the original film’s conflict between settings – Mars and Earth. I have to ask, what makes an elevator between two lands more contemporary of an idea than a conflict between colonial Mars and Earth. This is especially true considering recent news that a Mars colony might be seen in our lifetimes.
The other problems are more literary. Colin Farrell’s Douglas Quaid is portrayed very well throughout the film, and he manages to make the character satisfactory in the emotional portrayal of a man with a confused past and an insane situation. But even then, I have to say Arnold’s original portrayal seemed overall more human. The problem with Colin Farrell’s character is a mixture of performance and writing in his introduction. It is hard to believe him as someone so distraught over his nightmares that he absolutely feels compelled to go to Rekall. If they spent more time exploring his inner demons and how they are bringing his life down, then he would have been a much more compelling character. As it stands, he just goes through the motions of a protagonist. All of the other characters are the same way. Kate Beckinstale’s villainous Lori and Jessica Biel’s Melina are fairly shallow characters. They are not bad at their roles but that is all they, unfortunately, are: roles. Like Quaid, they just go through the motions, playing their part as clichéd character archetypes. Bryan Cranston is always awesome in any role, but in this he is not given much to work with. All he ends up being is just an evil tyrant with a megalomaniacal plot – with very little reason or background.
Those issues said, there are many things that do work. The pacing is good throughout, with no moments feeling awkward. The art design is exceptional, and there are no moments in the film that are boring to look at. To its credit, almost every scene is full of beautiful science-fiction design. The only complaint in this area is that some of the action scenes feel very cluttered due to the overall noise of The Colony’s design. The plot moves forward steadily, and it is overall simple to understand. That said, it is not without its own faults. The plot starts out great but becomes full of usual secret agent thriller clichés. Also, the plot becomes very campy, not to mention unbelievable, in its third act. The third act is also where there are the most plot holes – notable plot holes at that.
If you can shut your brain off for a couple hours, you can enjoy “Total Recall”. The film is pretty to look at and is absolutely packed with action sequences. All of the action sequences are well shot, well paced, and entertaining. The actors all do great with what they are given; but the problem is that they are not given much. They are all fairly flat characters, but are all satisfactory for the service of the plot – a plot that is well paced and understandable, but one that becomes campy, ridiculous, and peppered with notable plot holes. It is not as tightly written and directed to be a great secret agent thriller, and not as inspired to be a great science fiction story. The original was exceptional in its setting construction – pulling the audience into the amazingly designed Paul Verhoeven world. It was full of comedy and thrills, thought and design. As it stands, the moments that could really go far in establishing a passionate soul-filled, inspired world are instead spent on making quick references to those vary moments from the original. It could have established its own voice, its own heart and soul, but it just settles on being your clichéd average science fiction blockbuster.
The premise follows the original in only a rough sense. Sometime in the future, the world has been left mostly uninhabitable due to a deadly chemical war across the globe. Humanity has been left to residing in the only remaining habitable landmasses – Western Europe and “The Colony”, the latter being modern-day Australia. Because air travel is now impossible, the only travel between the landmasses is through a massive elevator called “The Fall” that cuts through the center of the Earth. Douglas Quaid (Colin Farrell) is a factory worker who works in Europe but lives in “The Colony” with his wife, Lori (Kate Beckinstale). His chronic nightmares lead him to become interested in the “Rekall” service – a machine that can implant memories into customers. His interest will lead him on a wild journey with Melina (Jessica Biel) to learn about his true self as well as secrets of Cohaagen’s (Bryan Cranston) tyrannical administration.
The problems of the film really start with the premise. While I enjoy the creativity of something like “The Fall”, it is simply too ridiculous to take seriously. They deserve credit for coming up with a relatively unknown science fiction concept, but an elevator that travels through the center of the Earth? Peoples’ suspension of disbelief can only be pushed so far. It serves a practical purpose in the plot – to create the conflict between “The Colony” and the mainland and between the government and the Resistance. Yet, too much time is spent trying to introduce this concept and make it seem plausible than the film should. It honestly seems easier to just use the original film’s conflict between settings – Mars and Earth. I have to ask, what makes an elevator between two lands more contemporary of an idea than a conflict between colonial Mars and Earth. This is especially true considering recent news that a Mars colony might be seen in our lifetimes.
The other problems are more literary. Colin Farrell’s Douglas Quaid is portrayed very well throughout the film, and he manages to make the character satisfactory in the emotional portrayal of a man with a confused past and an insane situation. But even then, I have to say Arnold’s original portrayal seemed overall more human. The problem with Colin Farrell’s character is a mixture of performance and writing in his introduction. It is hard to believe him as someone so distraught over his nightmares that he absolutely feels compelled to go to Rekall. If they spent more time exploring his inner demons and how they are bringing his life down, then he would have been a much more compelling character. As it stands, he just goes through the motions of a protagonist. All of the other characters are the same way. Kate Beckinstale’s villainous Lori and Jessica Biel’s Melina are fairly shallow characters. They are not bad at their roles but that is all they, unfortunately, are: roles. Like Quaid, they just go through the motions, playing their part as clichéd character archetypes. Bryan Cranston is always awesome in any role, but in this he is not given much to work with. All he ends up being is just an evil tyrant with a megalomaniacal plot – with very little reason or background.
Those issues said, there are many things that do work. The pacing is good throughout, with no moments feeling awkward. The art design is exceptional, and there are no moments in the film that are boring to look at. To its credit, almost every scene is full of beautiful science-fiction design. The only complaint in this area is that some of the action scenes feel very cluttered due to the overall noise of The Colony’s design. The plot moves forward steadily, and it is overall simple to understand. That said, it is not without its own faults. The plot starts out great but becomes full of usual secret agent thriller clichés. Also, the plot becomes very campy, not to mention unbelievable, in its third act. The third act is also where there are the most plot holes – notable plot holes at that.
If you can shut your brain off for a couple hours, you can enjoy “Total Recall”. The film is pretty to look at and is absolutely packed with action sequences. All of the action sequences are well shot, well paced, and entertaining. The actors all do great with what they are given; but the problem is that they are not given much. They are all fairly flat characters, but are all satisfactory for the service of the plot – a plot that is well paced and understandable, but one that becomes campy, ridiculous, and peppered with notable plot holes. It is not as tightly written and directed to be a great secret agent thriller, and not as inspired to be a great science fiction story. The original was exceptional in its setting construction – pulling the audience into the amazingly designed Paul Verhoeven world. It was full of comedy and thrills, thought and design. As it stands, the moments that could really go far in establishing a passionate soul-filled, inspired world are instead spent on making quick references to those vary moments from the original. It could have established its own voice, its own heart and soul, but it just settles on being your clichéd average science fiction blockbuster.
Cyn Armistead (14 KP) rated Carniepunk in Books
Mar 1, 2018
As soon as I read about this collection on Kevin Hearne's Facebook, I knew I would be buying it. I don't care for carnivals at all, and every story will be related to one in some way - but there was just no way I was going to miss an Atticus and Oberon story! I even pre-ordered the book on Amazon, the first time I've ever done that. It was SO hard not to skip right ahead and read Hearne's contribution the moment the book was in my hot little hands, but I managed some discipline.
Rob Thurman's "Painted Love" opens the book. It is dark, but to be fair it isn't quite as dark as the only Thurman novel I've read, from the Cal Leandros series. I rather liked the twist. I adored the fiercely protective older sister, especially the way she is described. I'll rate this one at three.
I don't believe I've ever read anything by Delilah S. Dawson before, certainly not anything in the Blud universe, so I had no idea what to expect from "The Three Lives of Lydia." It was a far darker story than I would generally choose to read. I found the male love interest highly appealing. The portrayal of mental illness was horrific. I found it interesting that Dawson is an Atlantan as well as a fellow geeky mom, but I'm sure that I've never heard of her before. She does have a book coming out next year that looks promising, so I may give it a read. This one's a two.
Then there is the Iron Druid story! "The Demon Barker of Wheat Street" is set a few books back in the series' chronology (two weeks after "Two Ravens and One Crow"), so Granuaille isn't yet a full Druid. To make things even more interesting, Atticus accidentally offended the local elemental many years ago, so his magic doesn't work as well as usual in the area. The story isn't vital to the series, and knowledge of the series isn't necessary for enjoying it. Hearne's fans definitely won't want to miss it, though, and it could be used as a nice little taste of his style for new readers. Definitely a five.
I couldn't make it through "The Sweeter the Juice" by Mark Henry. Zombies are disgusting, but I was way squicked before the first walking dead even appeared on the scene. A one, just because there are no zeroes.
Jaye Wells is another new-to-me author, as far as I can remember at the moment. I didn't really like "The Werewife," to be honest. There was no joy anywhere in this story. There wasn't even a hint that perhaps the couple in the story had been happy together at one time. Both of them seemed pretty miserable, and I didn't like the way it ended. It didn't seem like there was any way to give them a happy ending, but that ending didn't feel "true." It gets a two, and that's only to set it apart from the previous story.
"The Cold Girl" by Rachel Caine is about an abusive teen relationship. Oh, and vampires. I'm not a Caine fan, but this story was better than some of her other work. Again, too dark for my tastes. If half stars were possible, it would have one. I'll be nice and round up to three.
The name Allison Pang sounds familiar, so maybe I've read something by her in the past. If I did, I'm certain that it wasn't set in the same world as "A Duet With Darkness," which says it is an Abby Sinclair story. I found the main character to be an annoying, immature twit, but I'm a sucker for fiction with musical influences. The music is well-done here. I don't know if I will read anything more by Ms. Pang or not - I suppose that depends on whether or not her other work has better characters and is also musical. This one gets a four.
I found "Recession of the Divine" by Hillary Jacques fascinating. The Greek inspiration was unusual. I didn't really buy the customers being quite so unquestioning of Ophelia's state, but it wasn't a major complaint overall. I was highly disappointed to find nothing but a credit in another anthology for her. But! Reading the author profiles at the end of the book pays off, because that's how I learned that she also writes as Regan Summers. Now her works published under that name are on my to-read shelf. Another five.
Jennifer Estep's "Parlor Tricks" was actually released free on Amazon a little while back to promote Carniepunk, so it was the first story I read. I enjoy the Elemental Assassin series in general, and this story is no exception. Again, knowledge of the series is not required to understand the story, and the story is not vital to the series. It is a nice little sample, though, and I enjoyed seeing Gin and Bria having a sisterly outing. I'm probably biased, but it gets a five.
I liked Kelly Meding's "Freak House" a lot, and her name sounded familiar, but the story was set in the "Strays" universe, which I was certain I had never heard of before. I actually stirred myself to look her up, and learned that I've had one of her books on my to-read list for ages, and Strays is a new series she's just starting. Djinn, werewolves, vampires, pixies, harpies, leprechauns, skinwalkers, and more, some "out" to humans, some living hidden - what's not to love? This one gets a four.
Nicole Peeler us yet another author who sounded vaguely familiar to me, and yep, there is one of her books on my to-read list (yes, it is massive, why do you ask?). It is, in fact, the first of the Jane True books, and "The Inside Man" is set in that world. Peeler's writing style dies not flow for me, but I liked Capitola Jones and her friends Shar and Moo. As clowns are indisputably evil, I had little to complain about in the story. It gets a three.
Succubus (former?) Jezzie is the main character in Jackie Kessler's story "A Chance in Hell." Obviously, the story is set her Hell on Earth series. I had to look that up, though, because while I know you're shocked, her name did not ring any bells for me. I don't actually have ALL the urban fantasy books on my to-read or read lists! The piece opens with a confusing remark about a demon eating Jezebel's face, when that definitely is not the anatomy in question. If that's a common euphemism, it is wholly new to me. Within the next couple of pages there are multiple references to the fact that she has fallen in love with a human since becoming mortal, but absolutely no explanation of how she would reconcile sex with an incubus with her human love. As much as I would prefer that it were not the case, the default assumption in our society is that people are monogamous. Therefore, when there is a deviation from that norm, the reader expects - something. Is it supposed to demonstrate that the fictional society is different? Is the character in an explicitly non-monogamous relationship? Is her love unrequited? Is the guy dead? Do demons not count? Is she just a skanky ho? Then this great love isn't mentioned again for the rest of the story, so none of the questions raised are answered. Oh. There is, in fact, a plot here, but I was so annoyed by that stuff that I almost failed to notice it. Demonic circus, yo. The whole demon thing reminds me too much of another series I've read in the past. I can't even remember the author's name, much less the title, right now, but Kessler's work feels derivative. She gets a two.
Next up is Kelly Gay - Hey look! Another author whose name I don't recognize! - with "Hell's Menagerie," a Charlie Madigan short story. Okay, this series is set in an alternate Atlanta. As an Atlanta girl, that certainly gets my attention. And Charlie is a single mother. I don't recall any other single mothers in the UF world right off. (Kate Daniels doesn't quite count, because she adopted her daughter as a teen. Although it is interesting to note that Kate is also Atlanta-based.) I was ready to like this one, based solely on what I knew of the series. Then there was a grammatical error on the second page of the story that set my teeth on edge, one which could not be chalked up to a character's voice. Add in the fact that we get a fast, "and also, Jim" style introduction to Charlie (who isn't even present in the story!), Rex, and Emma in less than two pages, and I am officially annoyed. It isn't an old matinee movie, so surely that information could have been worked in a little more naturally? Emma won me over. Mostly. There's some, "Not another super-gifted kid," reaction, but I guess if the mother is supposed to be all that it's to be expected that the daughter might be special, too. Hmm. A three.
The last piece is Seaman McGuire's "Daughter of the Midway, the Mermaid, and the Open, Lonely, Sea." Is that title a mouthful, or what? It has the feel of a Toby Daye story, although it isn't subtitled as such, and there are no fae so maybe it isn't in that universe at all. As there are other stories in the book that are set in the same world as their author's series, yet not marked in any way, lack of a subtitle can't be taken as a negative indicator, though. In any case, the story is poignant, which I've come to expect from McGuire. I didn't really like it, but I didn't dislike it, either. I couldn't "feel" Ada in any true sense. I have the same problem with Toby. A three at best.
Overall, the book was decent. The ratings only average out to 3.21, but I'm very glad to have read the stories by Hearne and Estep. Discovering Jacques/Summers was absolutely worthwhile. I really hate that I read as much of Henry's story as I did. If I could delete that from my memory, it would probably raise the rating for everything else.
Rob Thurman's "Painted Love" opens the book. It is dark, but to be fair it isn't quite as dark as the only Thurman novel I've read, from the Cal Leandros series. I rather liked the twist. I adored the fiercely protective older sister, especially the way she is described. I'll rate this one at three.
I don't believe I've ever read anything by Delilah S. Dawson before, certainly not anything in the Blud universe, so I had no idea what to expect from "The Three Lives of Lydia." It was a far darker story than I would generally choose to read. I found the male love interest highly appealing. The portrayal of mental illness was horrific. I found it interesting that Dawson is an Atlantan as well as a fellow geeky mom, but I'm sure that I've never heard of her before. She does have a book coming out next year that looks promising, so I may give it a read. This one's a two.
Then there is the Iron Druid story! "The Demon Barker of Wheat Street" is set a few books back in the series' chronology (two weeks after "Two Ravens and One Crow"), so Granuaille isn't yet a full Druid. To make things even more interesting, Atticus accidentally offended the local elemental many years ago, so his magic doesn't work as well as usual in the area. The story isn't vital to the series, and knowledge of the series isn't necessary for enjoying it. Hearne's fans definitely won't want to miss it, though, and it could be used as a nice little taste of his style for new readers. Definitely a five.
I couldn't make it through "The Sweeter the Juice" by Mark Henry. Zombies are disgusting, but I was way squicked before the first walking dead even appeared on the scene. A one, just because there are no zeroes.
Jaye Wells is another new-to-me author, as far as I can remember at the moment. I didn't really like "The Werewife," to be honest. There was no joy anywhere in this story. There wasn't even a hint that perhaps the couple in the story had been happy together at one time. Both of them seemed pretty miserable, and I didn't like the way it ended. It didn't seem like there was any way to give them a happy ending, but that ending didn't feel "true." It gets a two, and that's only to set it apart from the previous story.
"The Cold Girl" by Rachel Caine is about an abusive teen relationship. Oh, and vampires. I'm not a Caine fan, but this story was better than some of her other work. Again, too dark for my tastes. If half stars were possible, it would have one. I'll be nice and round up to three.
The name Allison Pang sounds familiar, so maybe I've read something by her in the past. If I did, I'm certain that it wasn't set in the same world as "A Duet With Darkness," which says it is an Abby Sinclair story. I found the main character to be an annoying, immature twit, but I'm a sucker for fiction with musical influences. The music is well-done here. I don't know if I will read anything more by Ms. Pang or not - I suppose that depends on whether or not her other work has better characters and is also musical. This one gets a four.
I found "Recession of the Divine" by Hillary Jacques fascinating. The Greek inspiration was unusual. I didn't really buy the customers being quite so unquestioning of Ophelia's state, but it wasn't a major complaint overall. I was highly disappointed to find nothing but a credit in another anthology for her. But! Reading the author profiles at the end of the book pays off, because that's how I learned that she also writes as Regan Summers. Now her works published under that name are on my to-read shelf. Another five.
Jennifer Estep's "Parlor Tricks" was actually released free on Amazon a little while back to promote Carniepunk, so it was the first story I read. I enjoy the Elemental Assassin series in general, and this story is no exception. Again, knowledge of the series is not required to understand the story, and the story is not vital to the series. It is a nice little sample, though, and I enjoyed seeing Gin and Bria having a sisterly outing. I'm probably biased, but it gets a five.
I liked Kelly Meding's "Freak House" a lot, and her name sounded familiar, but the story was set in the "Strays" universe, which I was certain I had never heard of before. I actually stirred myself to look her up, and learned that I've had one of her books on my to-read list for ages, and Strays is a new series she's just starting. Djinn, werewolves, vampires, pixies, harpies, leprechauns, skinwalkers, and more, some "out" to humans, some living hidden - what's not to love? This one gets a four.
Nicole Peeler us yet another author who sounded vaguely familiar to me, and yep, there is one of her books on my to-read list (yes, it is massive, why do you ask?). It is, in fact, the first of the Jane True books, and "The Inside Man" is set in that world. Peeler's writing style dies not flow for me, but I liked Capitola Jones and her friends Shar and Moo. As clowns are indisputably evil, I had little to complain about in the story. It gets a three.
Succubus (former?) Jezzie is the main character in Jackie Kessler's story "A Chance in Hell." Obviously, the story is set her Hell on Earth series. I had to look that up, though, because while I know you're shocked, her name did not ring any bells for me. I don't actually have ALL the urban fantasy books on my to-read or read lists! The piece opens with a confusing remark about a demon eating Jezebel's face, when that definitely is not the anatomy in question. If that's a common euphemism, it is wholly new to me. Within the next couple of pages there are multiple references to the fact that she has fallen in love with a human since becoming mortal, but absolutely no explanation of how she would reconcile sex with an incubus with her human love. As much as I would prefer that it were not the case, the default assumption in our society is that people are monogamous. Therefore, when there is a deviation from that norm, the reader expects - something. Is it supposed to demonstrate that the fictional society is different? Is the character in an explicitly non-monogamous relationship? Is her love unrequited? Is the guy dead? Do demons not count? Is she just a skanky ho? Then this great love isn't mentioned again for the rest of the story, so none of the questions raised are answered. Oh. There is, in fact, a plot here, but I was so annoyed by that stuff that I almost failed to notice it. Demonic circus, yo. The whole demon thing reminds me too much of another series I've read in the past. I can't even remember the author's name, much less the title, right now, but Kessler's work feels derivative. She gets a two.
Next up is Kelly Gay - Hey look! Another author whose name I don't recognize! - with "Hell's Menagerie," a Charlie Madigan short story. Okay, this series is set in an alternate Atlanta. As an Atlanta girl, that certainly gets my attention. And Charlie is a single mother. I don't recall any other single mothers in the UF world right off. (Kate Daniels doesn't quite count, because she adopted her daughter as a teen. Although it is interesting to note that Kate is also Atlanta-based.) I was ready to like this one, based solely on what I knew of the series. Then there was a grammatical error on the second page of the story that set my teeth on edge, one which could not be chalked up to a character's voice. Add in the fact that we get a fast, "and also, Jim" style introduction to Charlie (who isn't even present in the story!), Rex, and Emma in less than two pages, and I am officially annoyed. It isn't an old matinee movie, so surely that information could have been worked in a little more naturally? Emma won me over. Mostly. There's some, "Not another super-gifted kid," reaction, but I guess if the mother is supposed to be all that it's to be expected that the daughter might be special, too. Hmm. A three.
The last piece is Seaman McGuire's "Daughter of the Midway, the Mermaid, and the Open, Lonely, Sea." Is that title a mouthful, or what? It has the feel of a Toby Daye story, although it isn't subtitled as such, and there are no fae so maybe it isn't in that universe at all. As there are other stories in the book that are set in the same world as their author's series, yet not marked in any way, lack of a subtitle can't be taken as a negative indicator, though. In any case, the story is poignant, which I've come to expect from McGuire. I didn't really like it, but I didn't dislike it, either. I couldn't "feel" Ada in any true sense. I have the same problem with Toby. A three at best.
Overall, the book was decent. The ratings only average out to 3.21, but I'm very glad to have read the stories by Hearne and Estep. Discovering Jacques/Summers was absolutely worthwhile. I really hate that I read as much of Henry's story as I did. If I could delete that from my memory, it would probably raise the rating for everything else.
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Sir Apropos of Nothing in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Sir Apropos of Nothing Skewers the Hero’s Journey
Contains spoilers, click to show
Fantasy and satire are two of my favorite genres in any medium, but especially so in books. Satirical fantasy, then, holds a special place on my shelves. I grew up on Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, and desire to imitate him and his style is what led me in middle school to begin writing in earnest, for fun, and for myself rather than just for my teachers and their assignments.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated If Beale Street Could Talk (2018) in Movies
Sep 28, 2021
Love and Rage against the machine.
The baby asked,
‘Is there not one righteous among them?”
― James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk
Beale Street refers to the jumpin’ heart of Memphis where Louis Armstrong was born. As explained in text from Baldwin’s source book (requiring a speed read!) it’s used as a metaphor for the birthplace of every black person in America. (“Every black person in America was born on Beale Street“). But the story is set in Harlem, New York, and with this intellectual stretch, before I even get past the title, I am immediately reaching for the “P-word”, of which more later.
The Plot
Tish (KiKi Layne) is 19 and in love with her lifelong friend ‘Fonny’ (Stephan James). So much in love in fact (and so careless) that Tish is now pregnant with his child. Tish must break this news to both families herself, since Fonny is inside awaiting trial for a vicious rape that he claims he didn’t commit. Tish and their joint families are trying to help, but can Fonny be released in time to see the birth of his child? Or are the institutions so set against him that release is impossible and death row might await?
Interwoven with Love and Anger
At its heart, this film portrays a truly beautiful love story. Tish and Fonny (both adorably played by the young leads) are friends becoming more than friends. We see their emerging love through flashback scenes. Some of these, particularly one on a metro train, are exquisitely done; long gazes into eyes, starting as one thing and ending as another.
In another scene, Fonny takes Tish’s virginity, and it’s done with style, taste and finesse. For younger teens this should be compulsory viewing as an antidote to all the horrible porn they are seeing on the internet: THIS is what sex, based on a foundation of true love, is all about. (The film is UK15 rated for “infrequent very strong language, strong sex” – I actually agree with the rating for the language (and actually I think an act of marital violence should also have also been referenced)…. but not for the sex, which should be 12A).
It’s a love story then? Well, yes, but offset against that, it’s a very angry film, seething with rage about how the police force and the justice system is set ‘against the black man’. Director Barry Jenkins (of – eventual – Oscar winner “Moonlight” fame) has a message to impart and he is intent on imparting it.
A great ensemble performance
The film didn’t get a SAG nomination for the ensemble cast, but it almost feels that they missed out here. As well as the two young leads being spectacular, the whole of the rest of the cast really gel well together, particularly the respective parents: Colman Domingo (“Selma“) as Tish’s father Joseph; Regina King as Tish’s mother Sharon; Michael Beach (“Patriots Day“) as Fonny’s father Frank and Aunjanue Ellis as his bible-bashing mother. A dramatic scene where they all collectively hear the news about the pregnancy is both comical and shocking in equal measure.
Poor sound mixing
If this film gets an Oscar nomination for sound, I’ll frankly be cross! There is significant use of sonorous, bass-heavy music and effects (including a lovely cello theme by Nicholas Britell) – all very effective; there is a lot of earnest and quietly spoken dialogue between the characters – also moody and effective. Unfortunately the two are mixed together in some scenes and frankly I couldn’t make out what was being said. Most frustrating.
In addition, there is voiceover narration from Tish (if you follow my blog regularly you KNOW what I think about that!). Actually, this isn’t as overly intrusive as in films like “The Hate U Give“, but it sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin! It’s a bit like that effect you get with headphones where the plug isn’t quite in the socket, and everything sounds way off and tinny. When combined with Layne’s accent the effect, again, made the dialogue difficult to comprehend.
The c-word and the n-word
There’s a degree of bad language in the film, albeit mild in comparison to “The Favourite“! Tish’s sister (Teyonah Parris) uses the c-word in one very funny dissing of Fonny’s ‘up-themselves’ sisters (Ebony Obsidian and Dominique Thorne). But the n-word is used repeatedly during the film, and that I can never get used to. I ‘get it’ (in the sense that I understand the perception) that this is a word that ‘only black people can use between themselves’. But this just feels elitist and wrong to me. At a time when Viggo Mortensen gets crucified for using it once (while being descriptive and in-context) during a press junket for “Green Book“, I just feel that if a word is taboo it should be taboo, period.
The p-word
My p-word here is “pretentious”. Barry Jenkins clearly feels he has something to prove after the success of “Moonlight“, and there are certainly moments of directorial brilliance in the film. As previously mentioned, the sex scene is one of the best I’ve seen in a long while. Also beautifully done are a birthing scene and two confrontational scenes in Puerto Rico. But there are also moments that seem to be staged, artificial and too ‘arty’ for their own good. Any hidden meaning behind them completely passed me by. (Examples are Sharon’s wig scene and a pan around Fonny’s wood sculpture). It all seems to be “trying too hard”.
Hate for the police is also writ large on the film, with every discriminatory police officer in the whole of the US embodied in the wicked sneering face of the police office Bell (Ed Skrein).
A platform that should be used for more than ranting
This is a film written and directed by an American black man (Jenkins) and largely fully cast with American black people. And I’m a white Englishman commenting on it. I’m clearly unqualified to pass judgement on how black America really feels about things! But comment I will from this fug of ignorance.
It feels to me that the “Black Lives Movement” has given, at long last, black film-makers like Jenkins a platform in cinema to present from. This is a great thing. But I’m sensing that at the moment the tone of the output from that platform (such as this film) seems to me heavily tinged with anger: a scream of frustration about the system and racial injustice over the years. It’s the film-makers right to make films about subjects dear to them. And I’m sure this summer we’ll sadly again see atrocities as previously seen in the likes of Ferguson and Dallas, fuelling the fire of hate. But I would personally really like to see someone like Jenkins use his undoubted talents to make a more uplifting film: a film reflecting the more positive strives that are happening in society, allowing for people of all races and all sexual orientations to make their way in business (not drug-running or crime!) and/or life in general. Those good news stories – the positive side of race relations – are out there and my view is that someone like Barry Jenkins should be telling them.
Final thoughts
I wasn’t as much of a fan of “Moonlight” as the Academy, and this film also left me conflicted. The film is well-made and the cast is very engaging. It also has a love story at its heart that is moody but well-done. Overall though the movie felt over-engineered and a little pretentious, and that knocked it down a few pegs for me.
‘Is there not one righteous among them?”
― James Baldwin, If Beale Street Could Talk
Beale Street refers to the jumpin’ heart of Memphis where Louis Armstrong was born. As explained in text from Baldwin’s source book (requiring a speed read!) it’s used as a metaphor for the birthplace of every black person in America. (“Every black person in America was born on Beale Street“). But the story is set in Harlem, New York, and with this intellectual stretch, before I even get past the title, I am immediately reaching for the “P-word”, of which more later.
The Plot
Tish (KiKi Layne) is 19 and in love with her lifelong friend ‘Fonny’ (Stephan James). So much in love in fact (and so careless) that Tish is now pregnant with his child. Tish must break this news to both families herself, since Fonny is inside awaiting trial for a vicious rape that he claims he didn’t commit. Tish and their joint families are trying to help, but can Fonny be released in time to see the birth of his child? Or are the institutions so set against him that release is impossible and death row might await?
Interwoven with Love and Anger
At its heart, this film portrays a truly beautiful love story. Tish and Fonny (both adorably played by the young leads) are friends becoming more than friends. We see their emerging love through flashback scenes. Some of these, particularly one on a metro train, are exquisitely done; long gazes into eyes, starting as one thing and ending as another.
In another scene, Fonny takes Tish’s virginity, and it’s done with style, taste and finesse. For younger teens this should be compulsory viewing as an antidote to all the horrible porn they are seeing on the internet: THIS is what sex, based on a foundation of true love, is all about. (The film is UK15 rated for “infrequent very strong language, strong sex” – I actually agree with the rating for the language (and actually I think an act of marital violence should also have also been referenced)…. but not for the sex, which should be 12A).
It’s a love story then? Well, yes, but offset against that, it’s a very angry film, seething with rage about how the police force and the justice system is set ‘against the black man’. Director Barry Jenkins (of – eventual – Oscar winner “Moonlight” fame) has a message to impart and he is intent on imparting it.
A great ensemble performance
The film didn’t get a SAG nomination for the ensemble cast, but it almost feels that they missed out here. As well as the two young leads being spectacular, the whole of the rest of the cast really gel well together, particularly the respective parents: Colman Domingo (“Selma“) as Tish’s father Joseph; Regina King as Tish’s mother Sharon; Michael Beach (“Patriots Day“) as Fonny’s father Frank and Aunjanue Ellis as his bible-bashing mother. A dramatic scene where they all collectively hear the news about the pregnancy is both comical and shocking in equal measure.
Poor sound mixing
If this film gets an Oscar nomination for sound, I’ll frankly be cross! There is significant use of sonorous, bass-heavy music and effects (including a lovely cello theme by Nicholas Britell) – all very effective; there is a lot of earnest and quietly spoken dialogue between the characters – also moody and effective. Unfortunately the two are mixed together in some scenes and frankly I couldn’t make out what was being said. Most frustrating.
In addition, there is voiceover narration from Tish (if you follow my blog regularly you KNOW what I think about that!). Actually, this isn’t as overly intrusive as in films like “The Hate U Give“, but it sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin! It’s a bit like that effect you get with headphones where the plug isn’t quite in the socket, and everything sounds way off and tinny. When combined with Layne’s accent the effect, again, made the dialogue difficult to comprehend.
The c-word and the n-word
There’s a degree of bad language in the film, albeit mild in comparison to “The Favourite“! Tish’s sister (Teyonah Parris) uses the c-word in one very funny dissing of Fonny’s ‘up-themselves’ sisters (Ebony Obsidian and Dominique Thorne). But the n-word is used repeatedly during the film, and that I can never get used to. I ‘get it’ (in the sense that I understand the perception) that this is a word that ‘only black people can use between themselves’. But this just feels elitist and wrong to me. At a time when Viggo Mortensen gets crucified for using it once (while being descriptive and in-context) during a press junket for “Green Book“, I just feel that if a word is taboo it should be taboo, period.
The p-word
My p-word here is “pretentious”. Barry Jenkins clearly feels he has something to prove after the success of “Moonlight“, and there are certainly moments of directorial brilliance in the film. As previously mentioned, the sex scene is one of the best I’ve seen in a long while. Also beautifully done are a birthing scene and two confrontational scenes in Puerto Rico. But there are also moments that seem to be staged, artificial and too ‘arty’ for their own good. Any hidden meaning behind them completely passed me by. (Examples are Sharon’s wig scene and a pan around Fonny’s wood sculpture). It all seems to be “trying too hard”.
Hate for the police is also writ large on the film, with every discriminatory police officer in the whole of the US embodied in the wicked sneering face of the police office Bell (Ed Skrein).
A platform that should be used for more than ranting
This is a film written and directed by an American black man (Jenkins) and largely fully cast with American black people. And I’m a white Englishman commenting on it. I’m clearly unqualified to pass judgement on how black America really feels about things! But comment I will from this fug of ignorance.
It feels to me that the “Black Lives Movement” has given, at long last, black film-makers like Jenkins a platform in cinema to present from. This is a great thing. But I’m sensing that at the moment the tone of the output from that platform (such as this film) seems to me heavily tinged with anger: a scream of frustration about the system and racial injustice over the years. It’s the film-makers right to make films about subjects dear to them. And I’m sure this summer we’ll sadly again see atrocities as previously seen in the likes of Ferguson and Dallas, fuelling the fire of hate. But I would personally really like to see someone like Jenkins use his undoubted talents to make a more uplifting film: a film reflecting the more positive strives that are happening in society, allowing for people of all races and all sexual orientations to make their way in business (not drug-running or crime!) and/or life in general. Those good news stories – the positive side of race relations – are out there and my view is that someone like Barry Jenkins should be telling them.
Final thoughts
I wasn’t as much of a fan of “Moonlight” as the Academy, and this film also left me conflicted. The film is well-made and the cast is very engaging. It also has a love story at its heart that is moody but well-done. Overall though the movie felt over-engineered and a little pretentious, and that knocked it down a few pegs for me.
Ryan Hill (152 KP) rated Wonder Woman (2017) in Movies
May 18, 2019
"I can save today, you can save the world"
Remember when some trickster claiming to be a former worker from Warner Bros. wrote an open letter saying that Wonder Woman was just another mess of a DC movie, et cetera? I remember how Patty Jenkins responded to that. She tweeted: "Just wait and you'll see".
Honestly, I don't know how anyone could even consider that there was the slightest chance of this movie not being good, and I'm gonna tell you why: this is the very first big female-led superhero movie, in which the title character also happens to be the greatest female superhero in history. If you really think that Patty Jenkins, also the first woman to ever direct a superhero movie of this caliber in a industry where women barely stand any chances to get to direct major blockbusters, would let this movie be anything less than great... You've got another thing coming, mate.
Wonder Woman is a traditional, oldschool superhero movie, but the first essentially feminist one at it, and they couldn't have chosen a better setting to tell this story, or a better character to star in it. The movie's social comments are strong and constantly present, but never forced, because it is only natural: by placing Diana, a princess raised in an island of warrior women, in the middle of the reality of World War I, the absurdities of the feminine role in the world - and so many other human corruptions - automatically come to light. The way Diana reacts to this world raises a great sense of awareness, with a touch of poignant humor to it. There is a very funny subtle arc of her wanting to take out her cloak, but not being able to because her armor is "barely any clothes", hinting not only at society's sexist feminine dressing code - which is still a thing today -, but also gradually adding power to the iconography of Wonder Woman in full costume; this is Wonder Woman's much awaited debut on the big screen in a solo movie, and like Superman and Batman before her, her first appearance needed to be something incredibly striking. Patty knew that, Gal knew that, and they made it happen. Even if we already saw her in BVS, the very first time Wonder Woman walks up in full costume here is undoubtedly one of the most iconic moments in superhero cinema.
Jenkins is extremely devoted to giving Wonder Woman the iconic debut film she deserves, and she nails it - there's quite a bit of remarkable shots and set pieces that let out the same imagetic power as in Donner's Superman, Burton's Batman or even Raimi's Spider-Man, and I must highlight the No Man's Land sequence. It's my favorite part of the movie; Jenkins and Heinberg carefully work on Diana's mindset as she first witness the horrors of human war, not being able to help everyone, horses being hurt so they can move faster, a mother and a child begging for help, and it all leads up to the powerful moment of a woman crossing the land no man could cross - and Heinberg's dialogue doesn't rely on obvious statements such as "fortunately I'm a woman" (I'm looking at you, Batwoman trailer), it simply lets the image strike us, because it is powerful enough by itself, and boy did that cause some serious goosebumps.
Speaking of dialogue... It's so terrific, so well written. The exchanges between Diana and Steve Trevor are very clever and funny, but most of all natural. All the characters are also extremely likable; Allan Heinberg's writing knows that not all of them can be given deep development, but nonetheless he gives them stories, personalities and purposes, and that - plus the charismatic performances - makes them very empathetic. The villains are not as remarkable as in some of the other DCEU films, but they didn't need to be; the movie doesn't require in-depth arcs from its villains. They have a strong presence when they're in scene and a well elaborated lore, and that's everything they need.
Contrary to the Nordic mythology depicted in the MCU, here we are talking about real gods, true deities, not superpowerful aliens that only strike a similar image - and that also brings a few narrative dangers along with it, after all, it was in greek mythological stories that the concept of Deus Ex Machina first appeared. Heinberg's screenplay, though, makes a few clever twists in that mythology to avoid easy solutions, which adds to the storytelling, the world building and the developing of the themes as well. The lore surrounding the God of War Ares, for example, is not a simple Diabolus Ex Machina as "he influences men to war and if you kill him every man goes back to being good and everything's alright", no, it's more narratively complicated and socially engaging than that.
And Gal Gadot... I'm at a loss for words. I'll confess right here that when she was first announced as Wonder Woman, I was one of the few who were very opposed to that casting. I've never been so wrong in my life, and I've never been so happy about it. She really is Wonder Woman. She's so graceful and adorable, but a major badass when she needs to be. The way she moves, the way she curiously looks at things, the way she speaks, and the way she incarnates Diana's evolving from her naive beginnings to the wise warrior... She's not only an icon, she's a true hero. Comparisons to Christopher Reeve's Superman were made for good reasons.
Chris Pine is also great, he walks perfectly in the line between funny and serious, Steve Trevor is a darling character and his chemistry with Gal is on point. Their relationship is very well constructed and becomes highly emotional by the end - there are scenes that filled my heart with joy, and others that made it ache.
The action is exciting and full of originality, and I like how Jenkins uses slow-motion differently than Zack Snyder. I know that Snyder helped her direct some of the action sequences, which is understandable since Jenkins had no experience with this type of movie, but you can tell it's not the same. In the fights themselves, there's this feel of sensibility to how these people react to Diana, and it's slightly different from the typical "regular people react to superhumans among them" trope. The cinematography is very keen on portraying the difference between Themyscira - an island of colors and natural beauty - and "jolly ol' London" - desaturated and smoggy, a scenario in which Diana's colorful armor shines in a most beautiful contrast.
And the soundtrack. Rupert Gregson-Williams made a beautiful score that brings out the best in every scene. It's heroic, very heartfelt, and loyal to the foundations of what makes superhero music so memorable. Gregson-Williams adds new themes to compose Wonder Woman's musical identity, but Hans Zimmer's main theme from BVS still lives, and it plays in some heart-pounding scenes. I love that they're dedicating that much attention to the musical continuity, because amongst Marvel's many qualities, they're doing a lousy job in that area. Wonder Woman's theme is the most catchy superhero theme in a long time, it quickly gained a lot of appreciation and by continuing on using it, Gregson-Williams collaborates to making Wonder Woman the strong cinematic icon she's setting out to be.
The irregular reception of previous DCEU movies also extols the impact of Wonder Woman, as do the distinct styles between the films. One of the DCEU's biggest virtues is that singularity of each film; be it a near disaster movie epic such as Man Of Steel, a complex deconstruction of heroic values such as Batman v Superman, an stylish chaos such as Suicide Squad or a traditional, graceful superhero film such as Wonder Woman, these movies are all in the same universe, and that very fact is an example of its richness. A lot of people will think Wonder Woman is the best DCEU movie of the lot, some will stick to BVS, others to MOS, maybe for some it's Shazam, but that's the fun of it: we can discuss this forever. Each of these movies mean different things to different people, we're way past simply labelling one as "better" and the other as "worse".
Wonder Woman, however, is not simply a movie about a very strong woman. It's an achievement for every woman. There were tons of girls dressed up as Wonder Woman in the theater, and just seeing how ecstatic they were after the movie brought me joy. There were tons of applause. It's a mark. Be that as it may, Wonder Woman will be remembered as the most impactful superhero film of its time. In 1978, Superman showed to the world how a man could fly; in 2017, Wonder Woman showed to the world how a woman can fight.
Honestly, I don't know how anyone could even consider that there was the slightest chance of this movie not being good, and I'm gonna tell you why: this is the very first big female-led superhero movie, in which the title character also happens to be the greatest female superhero in history. If you really think that Patty Jenkins, also the first woman to ever direct a superhero movie of this caliber in a industry where women barely stand any chances to get to direct major blockbusters, would let this movie be anything less than great... You've got another thing coming, mate.
Wonder Woman is a traditional, oldschool superhero movie, but the first essentially feminist one at it, and they couldn't have chosen a better setting to tell this story, or a better character to star in it. The movie's social comments are strong and constantly present, but never forced, because it is only natural: by placing Diana, a princess raised in an island of warrior women, in the middle of the reality of World War I, the absurdities of the feminine role in the world - and so many other human corruptions - automatically come to light. The way Diana reacts to this world raises a great sense of awareness, with a touch of poignant humor to it. There is a very funny subtle arc of her wanting to take out her cloak, but not being able to because her armor is "barely any clothes", hinting not only at society's sexist feminine dressing code - which is still a thing today -, but also gradually adding power to the iconography of Wonder Woman in full costume; this is Wonder Woman's much awaited debut on the big screen in a solo movie, and like Superman and Batman before her, her first appearance needed to be something incredibly striking. Patty knew that, Gal knew that, and they made it happen. Even if we already saw her in BVS, the very first time Wonder Woman walks up in full costume here is undoubtedly one of the most iconic moments in superhero cinema.
Jenkins is extremely devoted to giving Wonder Woman the iconic debut film she deserves, and she nails it - there's quite a bit of remarkable shots and set pieces that let out the same imagetic power as in Donner's Superman, Burton's Batman or even Raimi's Spider-Man, and I must highlight the No Man's Land sequence. It's my favorite part of the movie; Jenkins and Heinberg carefully work on Diana's mindset as she first witness the horrors of human war, not being able to help everyone, horses being hurt so they can move faster, a mother and a child begging for help, and it all leads up to the powerful moment of a woman crossing the land no man could cross - and Heinberg's dialogue doesn't rely on obvious statements such as "fortunately I'm a woman" (I'm looking at you, Batwoman trailer), it simply lets the image strike us, because it is powerful enough by itself, and boy did that cause some serious goosebumps.
Speaking of dialogue... It's so terrific, so well written. The exchanges between Diana and Steve Trevor are very clever and funny, but most of all natural. All the characters are also extremely likable; Allan Heinberg's writing knows that not all of them can be given deep development, but nonetheless he gives them stories, personalities and purposes, and that - plus the charismatic performances - makes them very empathetic. The villains are not as remarkable as in some of the other DCEU films, but they didn't need to be; the movie doesn't require in-depth arcs from its villains. They have a strong presence when they're in scene and a well elaborated lore, and that's everything they need.
Contrary to the Nordic mythology depicted in the MCU, here we are talking about real gods, true deities, not superpowerful aliens that only strike a similar image - and that also brings a few narrative dangers along with it, after all, it was in greek mythological stories that the concept of Deus Ex Machina first appeared. Heinberg's screenplay, though, makes a few clever twists in that mythology to avoid easy solutions, which adds to the storytelling, the world building and the developing of the themes as well. The lore surrounding the God of War Ares, for example, is not a simple Diabolus Ex Machina as "he influences men to war and if you kill him every man goes back to being good and everything's alright", no, it's more narratively complicated and socially engaging than that.
And Gal Gadot... I'm at a loss for words. I'll confess right here that when she was first announced as Wonder Woman, I was one of the few who were very opposed to that casting. I've never been so wrong in my life, and I've never been so happy about it. She really is Wonder Woman. She's so graceful and adorable, but a major badass when she needs to be. The way she moves, the way she curiously looks at things, the way she speaks, and the way she incarnates Diana's evolving from her naive beginnings to the wise warrior... She's not only an icon, she's a true hero. Comparisons to Christopher Reeve's Superman were made for good reasons.
Chris Pine is also great, he walks perfectly in the line between funny and serious, Steve Trevor is a darling character and his chemistry with Gal is on point. Their relationship is very well constructed and becomes highly emotional by the end - there are scenes that filled my heart with joy, and others that made it ache.
The action is exciting and full of originality, and I like how Jenkins uses slow-motion differently than Zack Snyder. I know that Snyder helped her direct some of the action sequences, which is understandable since Jenkins had no experience with this type of movie, but you can tell it's not the same. In the fights themselves, there's this feel of sensibility to how these people react to Diana, and it's slightly different from the typical "regular people react to superhumans among them" trope. The cinematography is very keen on portraying the difference between Themyscira - an island of colors and natural beauty - and "jolly ol' London" - desaturated and smoggy, a scenario in which Diana's colorful armor shines in a most beautiful contrast.
And the soundtrack. Rupert Gregson-Williams made a beautiful score that brings out the best in every scene. It's heroic, very heartfelt, and loyal to the foundations of what makes superhero music so memorable. Gregson-Williams adds new themes to compose Wonder Woman's musical identity, but Hans Zimmer's main theme from BVS still lives, and it plays in some heart-pounding scenes. I love that they're dedicating that much attention to the musical continuity, because amongst Marvel's many qualities, they're doing a lousy job in that area. Wonder Woman's theme is the most catchy superhero theme in a long time, it quickly gained a lot of appreciation and by continuing on using it, Gregson-Williams collaborates to making Wonder Woman the strong cinematic icon she's setting out to be.
The irregular reception of previous DCEU movies also extols the impact of Wonder Woman, as do the distinct styles between the films. One of the DCEU's biggest virtues is that singularity of each film; be it a near disaster movie epic such as Man Of Steel, a complex deconstruction of heroic values such as Batman v Superman, an stylish chaos such as Suicide Squad or a traditional, graceful superhero film such as Wonder Woman, these movies are all in the same universe, and that very fact is an example of its richness. A lot of people will think Wonder Woman is the best DCEU movie of the lot, some will stick to BVS, others to MOS, maybe for some it's Shazam, but that's the fun of it: we can discuss this forever. Each of these movies mean different things to different people, we're way past simply labelling one as "better" and the other as "worse".
Wonder Woman, however, is not simply a movie about a very strong woman. It's an achievement for every woman. There were tons of girls dressed up as Wonder Woman in the theater, and just seeing how ecstatic they were after the movie brought me joy. There were tons of applause. It's a mark. Be that as it may, Wonder Woman will be remembered as the most impactful superhero film of its time. In 1978, Superman showed to the world how a man could fly; in 2017, Wonder Woman showed to the world how a woman can fight.
5 Minute Movie Guy (379 KP) rated Godzilla (2014) in Movies
Jun 26, 2019
Godzilla's gigantic scale is impressive. (1 more)
Bryan Cranston gives a terrific performance.
Aaron Taylor-Johnson is a horribly lifeless protagonist. (2 more)
The film repeatedly obscures our chances to see Godzilla or cuts away from him completely.
There seems to be very little sense of panic or concern despite Godzilla and MUTO's destruction.
As promising as this new Godzilla movie may appear to be, it falls far short of expectations, and dare I say, it isn’t even much better than the 1998 version.
This year marks the 60th anniversary of the original Godzilla film, when the King of the Monsters first emerged from the Pacific and terrorized Tokyo, Japan. Roughly 10 years after America dropped two atomic bombs on Japan to end World War II, Godzilla was artistically created to be a physical, living representation of the destructive force of those bombs. Even the texture of his skin is modelled after keloid scars, which were found on survivors as a result of the radiation. Godzilla’s arrival and subsequent attacks were spurred by the use of nuclear weapons, and he as a character wholly embodies the consequences of nuclear warfare.
60 years later, Godzilla remains a global icon, having spawned dozens of movie sequels, while introducing several other enormous monsters to battle with. Then 16 years ago, he was reimagined as he first came to America in Roland Emmerich’s lackluster 1998 film Godzilla, leaving many fans severely disappointed with not only the film, but also the new rendition of the famous monster. While Godzilla is visually depicted much more accurately in Gareth Edward’s new 2014 Godzilla than he was in ’98, his entire presence is surprisingly different than usual. This isn’t the angry, vengeful Godzilla of the past. He actually now seems almost entirely indifferent to humans. Unfortunately, as promising as this new Godzilla movie may appear to be, it falls far short of expectations, and dare I say, it isn’t even much better than the 1998 Godzilla.
Godzilla (2014) starts off pretty well, strengthened by the performance of Bryan Cranston, who plays Joe Brody, a nuclear power plant engineer living in Japan. Brody is present when an unknown disaster occurs at the plant, costing many innocent lives. Despite what the trailers suggest, Cranston’s Brody is not the main character of the film. Nor is it fellow all-star actor Ken Watanabe. The main character is actually only seen for about 4 seconds of the film’s original 2 and a half minute trailer. It’s Joe Brody’s son, Ford, played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, in a performance that is decent but far from engaging. The protagonist Ford Brody is a character that is largely uninteresting, and who just casually wants to get back to his family after the monster invasion. He fails to convey any genuine sense of urgency amidst the chaos, although the same can be said for the entire cast, with the exception of Cranston’s Brody. Cranston’s performance is the only one that has any emotional weight to it, but he can’t carry the film alone. Meanwhile, Ken Watanabe is essentially reduced to being the quiet, ever-present voice of reason that no one wants to listen to. The film has a solid cast of actors, but they’re not given enough to work with in this convoluted mess of a movie.
For a movie that has so much death and destruction, the people in the film never seem all that concerned. You get no sense of global panic and hysteria. You have a 300-foot-tall monster destroying cities, with millions of people dying, and yet nobody seems all that freaked out by it. It’s almost like the situation isn’t treated as a serious threat, and there’s a major lack of suspense altogether. There’s rarely any edge-of-your-seat terror or excitement, and the lack of emotion just makes the action come off as sort of flat and dull. Not only that, the majority of the destruction that’s taking place isn’t even seen, with the movie instead opting to show you the aftermath. Throughout the first two-thirds of the movie, the camera continuously cuts away from the action you’ve been waiting for. Rather than showing you what you want to see in full-glory, the movie frequently will take you to a different location where you’ll briefly see a few seconds of the catastrophe being watched by someone on television. It feels like a cheap trick to build up to some amazing climax, but it’s incredibly frustrating. It’s like when watching a reality TV show and then the show cuts to a commercial break before revealing the winner. Perhaps it would be more forgivable if the end was enjoyable, but even though it does give you a full display of the showdown, it’s bogged down by a tiresome human story and still lacks any real emotional punch. Despite the fact that the movie tries to convey a serious tone, it’s also incredibly cheesy. To the extent that the big finale that this movie has been trying so hard to build up to ends up being almost laughable. Ultimately the movie ends up just being unsatisfying, disappointing, and overly long.
There are a lot of ways in which Godzilla goes wrong, despite the film’s great potential. One of my issues is with the musical score, which ends up coming off like a bad punchline. Music is supposed to accentuate the action and drama of a film, yet the film feels emotionless and boring. The only time the music really stood out to me was when it was being used to heighten the suspense of the climactic battle, and essentially narrate who was winning. It was done so ineffectively that it was both kind of comical and embarrassing. I also have an issue with all of the special effects, which are being touted as absolutely amazing. They’re not. However, I will say that the use of special effects in the movie is quite ambitious, but it works to the film’s detriment. There’s simply too much of them, and this excessive nature of the film is, I think, its biggest mistake. Godzilla (2014) is ridiculously CGI-heavy, and while their scope is admirable, I really think the quality would have been substantially improved if they didn’t overdo it so much. I think a less-is-more approach would have benefited the film in many ways. It’s excessive to the point of making good things turn bad. Everything is way too over the top, causing the action to lose its impact. It’s evident the filmmakers were trying so hard to make this big-budget movie as epic as possible, but this enormous scale ends up backfiring. The rampage covers two continents, multiple cities, and even traverses the length of the Pacific Ocean. I can appreciate their attempt, but the movie is trying to do too much. In other words, Godzilla (2014) bites off more than it can chew.
I also have some problems with the film’s treatment of the titular character, Godzilla. First of all, for a movie named after him, he sure doesn’t appear much in it. He’s the reason why we want to see the movie, but he’s absent for the majority of the film. Even when he’s around, he’s largely obscured by CGI smoke and storm clouds, up until the final moments of the movie. I’m also not particularly fond of his appearance. He just doesn’t quite look like Godzilla to me. It’s like looking at a T-Rex head on Godzilla’s body. I’m aware that Godzilla’s facial appearance has changed many times over 60 years, but something just doesn’t look quite right here. Additionally, I feel that Godzilla’s face is actually too expressive in this new film. I wonder if this was done to cause viewers to feel more sympathetic to him, because in the film, Godzilla is actually depicted as something of a tragic hero, rather than a colossal beast. This is my biggest concern with the movie’s handling of his character. Godzilla’s destruction in the film is treated like it’s all unintentional, and just a result of his massive size. Even though humans attack him, he’s not angry about it or anything. Never mind the movie’s claim that all of America’s nuclear bomb tests after Hiroshima and Nagasaki were actually secretive but unsuccessful attempts to kill Godzilla. He doesn’t mind. He’s just a poor gentle giant that’s misunderstood. Really, Hollywood? Give me a break!
To say that Godzilla (2014) is almost as bad of a film as Godzilla (1998) is a statement that I don’t take lightly. It’s a bold and controversial thing to say, and it may seem a bit absurd considering that this film goes in the right direction, whereas the previous film was all wrong from the beginning. Yet while the new movie has all the right pieces for greatness, it extends its reach too far and attempts to do too much, while never managing to make any of it very good. In all seriousness, I was more entertained with the ’98 film than I was with this one. I can hardly comprehend how a movie with a giant 300-foot-tall monster destroying cities can be so boring. Godzilla (2014) focuses so much on trying to build up to an epic conclusion that it forgets to worry about making the audience care, or even about keeping them entertained, and it just gets worse as it goes on. It repeatedly tries to raise the stakes, as well as our expectations, while attempting to delay gratification until the end. It’s a risky move, and unsurprisingly, it certainly doesn’t pay off. On the bright side, Godzilla (2014) is probably a pretty sweet movie if you’re a 12-year-old. There’s plenty of action, some cool special effects, and he’s still a pretty awesome monster. However, for me, I was totally pumped up for this movie, but an hour and a half into it, I had endured enough and wanted to walk out. Godzilla (2014) disappointed me on so many levels. It’s a movie without a beating heart. It’s predictable, overly long, has uninspired characters and a weak story, and the action just never hits the right note. A little more emotion and a little less CGI could have a gone a long way in making this movie better. As a fan of Godzilla, I felt frustrated, detached, and perplexed with how they were able to do so much wrong when they had the groundwork for something great. You know, perhaps I’m wrong in claiming it’s comparably bad as Godzilla (1998). After all, the last time I saw that movie was in the theaters when I was 12.
(This review was originally posted at 5mmg.com on 5.17.14.)
60 years later, Godzilla remains a global icon, having spawned dozens of movie sequels, while introducing several other enormous monsters to battle with. Then 16 years ago, he was reimagined as he first came to America in Roland Emmerich’s lackluster 1998 film Godzilla, leaving many fans severely disappointed with not only the film, but also the new rendition of the famous monster. While Godzilla is visually depicted much more accurately in Gareth Edward’s new 2014 Godzilla than he was in ’98, his entire presence is surprisingly different than usual. This isn’t the angry, vengeful Godzilla of the past. He actually now seems almost entirely indifferent to humans. Unfortunately, as promising as this new Godzilla movie may appear to be, it falls far short of expectations, and dare I say, it isn’t even much better than the 1998 Godzilla.
Godzilla (2014) starts off pretty well, strengthened by the performance of Bryan Cranston, who plays Joe Brody, a nuclear power plant engineer living in Japan. Brody is present when an unknown disaster occurs at the plant, costing many innocent lives. Despite what the trailers suggest, Cranston’s Brody is not the main character of the film. Nor is it fellow all-star actor Ken Watanabe. The main character is actually only seen for about 4 seconds of the film’s original 2 and a half minute trailer. It’s Joe Brody’s son, Ford, played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, in a performance that is decent but far from engaging. The protagonist Ford Brody is a character that is largely uninteresting, and who just casually wants to get back to his family after the monster invasion. He fails to convey any genuine sense of urgency amidst the chaos, although the same can be said for the entire cast, with the exception of Cranston’s Brody. Cranston’s performance is the only one that has any emotional weight to it, but he can’t carry the film alone. Meanwhile, Ken Watanabe is essentially reduced to being the quiet, ever-present voice of reason that no one wants to listen to. The film has a solid cast of actors, but they’re not given enough to work with in this convoluted mess of a movie.
For a movie that has so much death and destruction, the people in the film never seem all that concerned. You get no sense of global panic and hysteria. You have a 300-foot-tall monster destroying cities, with millions of people dying, and yet nobody seems all that freaked out by it. It’s almost like the situation isn’t treated as a serious threat, and there’s a major lack of suspense altogether. There’s rarely any edge-of-your-seat terror or excitement, and the lack of emotion just makes the action come off as sort of flat and dull. Not only that, the majority of the destruction that’s taking place isn’t even seen, with the movie instead opting to show you the aftermath. Throughout the first two-thirds of the movie, the camera continuously cuts away from the action you’ve been waiting for. Rather than showing you what you want to see in full-glory, the movie frequently will take you to a different location where you’ll briefly see a few seconds of the catastrophe being watched by someone on television. It feels like a cheap trick to build up to some amazing climax, but it’s incredibly frustrating. It’s like when watching a reality TV show and then the show cuts to a commercial break before revealing the winner. Perhaps it would be more forgivable if the end was enjoyable, but even though it does give you a full display of the showdown, it’s bogged down by a tiresome human story and still lacks any real emotional punch. Despite the fact that the movie tries to convey a serious tone, it’s also incredibly cheesy. To the extent that the big finale that this movie has been trying so hard to build up to ends up being almost laughable. Ultimately the movie ends up just being unsatisfying, disappointing, and overly long.
There are a lot of ways in which Godzilla goes wrong, despite the film’s great potential. One of my issues is with the musical score, which ends up coming off like a bad punchline. Music is supposed to accentuate the action and drama of a film, yet the film feels emotionless and boring. The only time the music really stood out to me was when it was being used to heighten the suspense of the climactic battle, and essentially narrate who was winning. It was done so ineffectively that it was both kind of comical and embarrassing. I also have an issue with all of the special effects, which are being touted as absolutely amazing. They’re not. However, I will say that the use of special effects in the movie is quite ambitious, but it works to the film’s detriment. There’s simply too much of them, and this excessive nature of the film is, I think, its biggest mistake. Godzilla (2014) is ridiculously CGI-heavy, and while their scope is admirable, I really think the quality would have been substantially improved if they didn’t overdo it so much. I think a less-is-more approach would have benefited the film in many ways. It’s excessive to the point of making good things turn bad. Everything is way too over the top, causing the action to lose its impact. It’s evident the filmmakers were trying so hard to make this big-budget movie as epic as possible, but this enormous scale ends up backfiring. The rampage covers two continents, multiple cities, and even traverses the length of the Pacific Ocean. I can appreciate their attempt, but the movie is trying to do too much. In other words, Godzilla (2014) bites off more than it can chew.
I also have some problems with the film’s treatment of the titular character, Godzilla. First of all, for a movie named after him, he sure doesn’t appear much in it. He’s the reason why we want to see the movie, but he’s absent for the majority of the film. Even when he’s around, he’s largely obscured by CGI smoke and storm clouds, up until the final moments of the movie. I’m also not particularly fond of his appearance. He just doesn’t quite look like Godzilla to me. It’s like looking at a T-Rex head on Godzilla’s body. I’m aware that Godzilla’s facial appearance has changed many times over 60 years, but something just doesn’t look quite right here. Additionally, I feel that Godzilla’s face is actually too expressive in this new film. I wonder if this was done to cause viewers to feel more sympathetic to him, because in the film, Godzilla is actually depicted as something of a tragic hero, rather than a colossal beast. This is my biggest concern with the movie’s handling of his character. Godzilla’s destruction in the film is treated like it’s all unintentional, and just a result of his massive size. Even though humans attack him, he’s not angry about it or anything. Never mind the movie’s claim that all of America’s nuclear bomb tests after Hiroshima and Nagasaki were actually secretive but unsuccessful attempts to kill Godzilla. He doesn’t mind. He’s just a poor gentle giant that’s misunderstood. Really, Hollywood? Give me a break!
To say that Godzilla (2014) is almost as bad of a film as Godzilla (1998) is a statement that I don’t take lightly. It’s a bold and controversial thing to say, and it may seem a bit absurd considering that this film goes in the right direction, whereas the previous film was all wrong from the beginning. Yet while the new movie has all the right pieces for greatness, it extends its reach too far and attempts to do too much, while never managing to make any of it very good. In all seriousness, I was more entertained with the ’98 film than I was with this one. I can hardly comprehend how a movie with a giant 300-foot-tall monster destroying cities can be so boring. Godzilla (2014) focuses so much on trying to build up to an epic conclusion that it forgets to worry about making the audience care, or even about keeping them entertained, and it just gets worse as it goes on. It repeatedly tries to raise the stakes, as well as our expectations, while attempting to delay gratification until the end. It’s a risky move, and unsurprisingly, it certainly doesn’t pay off. On the bright side, Godzilla (2014) is probably a pretty sweet movie if you’re a 12-year-old. There’s plenty of action, some cool special effects, and he’s still a pretty awesome monster. However, for me, I was totally pumped up for this movie, but an hour and a half into it, I had endured enough and wanted to walk out. Godzilla (2014) disappointed me on so many levels. It’s a movie without a beating heart. It’s predictable, overly long, has uninspired characters and a weak story, and the action just never hits the right note. A little more emotion and a little less CGI could have a gone a long way in making this movie better. As a fan of Godzilla, I felt frustrated, detached, and perplexed with how they were able to do so much wrong when they had the groundwork for something great. You know, perhaps I’m wrong in claiming it’s comparably bad as Godzilla (1998). After all, the last time I saw that movie was in the theaters when I was 12.
(This review was originally posted at 5mmg.com on 5.17.14.)