Search
Search results
David McK (3422 KP) rated The Shepherd's Crown in Books
Jan 28, 2019
THE FINAL DISCWORLD BOOK
Those four words were always going to make a long-time Discworld reader feel quite emotional, making it hard to objectively review the novel itself: are you reviewing this last peek into Pratchett's mirror reality, or are you reviewing the entire 41-book series? I'm going to try both:
THE SERIES
The first Disworld book I read (I'm pretty sure it was [b: Pyramids|64217|Pyramids (Discworld, #7)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1439098306s/64217.jpg|968512]) wasn't actually the first in the series (that would be [b: The Colour of Magic|833512|The Colour of Magic The Illustrated Screenplay|Vadim Jean|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347346368s/833512.jpg|17589693]), although I did later go back and read the earlier works. Reading them in order released (as opposed to one of the numerous Discworld Reading Order Guides: I'm quite partial to the 'Unofficial Discworld Reading Order Guide'), you can see how Terry Pratchett's writing style evolved, how he moved from outright satire to a more subtle comedy fantasy that holds a mirror up to real-world issues. Personally, I feel he was at his best at around the mid-way point of the series (say, [b: Maskerade|64305|Maskerade The Play|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1170622047s/64305.jpg|62427] or [b: Men at Arms|7557548|Men at Arms The Play|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1353573652s/7557548.jpg|9910828], after he'd found his feet (so-to-speak), but before the 'embuggerance' of his posterior cortical atrophy set in and the novels - perhaps understandably - started becoming almost too serious.
Throughout the series, there was a rich tapestry of characters introduced, from CMOT Dibbler through to the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, with certain groups of characters (e.g. The City Watch) effectively becoming a sub-series in their own right. One of those groups - Granny Weatherwax (first introduced in [b: Equal Rites|34507|Equal Rites (Discworld, #3; Witches, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1407706800s/34507.jpg|583611] and The Witches of Lancre (first introduced in [b: Wyrd Sisters|233664|Wyrd Sisters The Play|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388363090s/233664.jpg|17589683] - would later themselves have 'guest spots' in another group of such characters, ostensibly written for Young Adult Readers but still very enjoyable for older; the Nac Mac Feegles (Crivens!) and Tiffany Aching, both of who first appeared in [b: The Wee Free Men|7881001|The Wee Free Men The Beginning (Discworld, #30 & #32)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388181365s/7881001.jpg|22017239]. Which nicely brings me to:
THE NOVEL ITSELF
'The Shepherd's Crown' sees a return of both Tiffany Aching, now a young Witch setting out on her career path, and those Nac Mac Feegles. There's a strong sense of change throughout, kicked off by the surprising early exit of a previous major character in the entire series, leading to old foes - the Elves - to try to make their way back into the world. These Elves, remember, are *not* the dainty do-gooders of Tolkien: these are nasty, malicious, self-serving creatures who last attempted to invade in [b: Lords and Ladies|34529|Lords and Ladies (Discworld, #14; Witches #4)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1469186110s/34529.jpg|1185086], before eventually being defeated by Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg and Magrat Garlik. Those three characters make a return in this, as well as bit-parts for the Arch-Chancellor of Unseen University, Ponder Stibbons (and HEX) alongside King Verence and the Patrician. Despite all these, the novel, however, is really Tiffany's story, and of how she finds her feet in the circumstances into which she is rather abruptly thrown. There's also a plot element that recalls [b: Equal Rites|34507|Equal Rites (Discworld, #3; Witches, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1407706800s/34507.jpg|583611]: that of a person wanting to do a role that is generally considered to be that for a member of the opposite sex.
As always, footnotes are present and correct, with the novel even raising a few laugh-out-loud moments. While the story does finish with the words 'THE END', the world itself will continue on: all that has come to an end is our ability to peek into it.
In the words of the Nac Mac Feegle: "Waily waily waily ..."
Rating for the series: 5*
Rating for the novel: 4*
Those four words were always going to make a long-time Discworld reader feel quite emotional, making it hard to objectively review the novel itself: are you reviewing this last peek into Pratchett's mirror reality, or are you reviewing the entire 41-book series? I'm going to try both:
THE SERIES
The first Disworld book I read (I'm pretty sure it was [b: Pyramids|64217|Pyramids (Discworld, #7)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1439098306s/64217.jpg|968512]) wasn't actually the first in the series (that would be [b: The Colour of Magic|833512|The Colour of Magic The Illustrated Screenplay|Vadim Jean|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347346368s/833512.jpg|17589693]), although I did later go back and read the earlier works. Reading them in order released (as opposed to one of the numerous Discworld Reading Order Guides: I'm quite partial to the 'Unofficial Discworld Reading Order Guide'), you can see how Terry Pratchett's writing style evolved, how he moved from outright satire to a more subtle comedy fantasy that holds a mirror up to real-world issues. Personally, I feel he was at his best at around the mid-way point of the series (say, [b: Maskerade|64305|Maskerade The Play|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1170622047s/64305.jpg|62427] or [b: Men at Arms|7557548|Men at Arms The Play|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1353573652s/7557548.jpg|9910828], after he'd found his feet (so-to-speak), but before the 'embuggerance' of his posterior cortical atrophy set in and the novels - perhaps understandably - started becoming almost too serious.
Throughout the series, there was a rich tapestry of characters introduced, from CMOT Dibbler through to the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, with certain groups of characters (e.g. The City Watch) effectively becoming a sub-series in their own right. One of those groups - Granny Weatherwax (first introduced in [b: Equal Rites|34507|Equal Rites (Discworld, #3; Witches, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1407706800s/34507.jpg|583611] and The Witches of Lancre (first introduced in [b: Wyrd Sisters|233664|Wyrd Sisters The Play|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388363090s/233664.jpg|17589683] - would later themselves have 'guest spots' in another group of such characters, ostensibly written for Young Adult Readers but still very enjoyable for older; the Nac Mac Feegles (Crivens!) and Tiffany Aching, both of who first appeared in [b: The Wee Free Men|7881001|The Wee Free Men The Beginning (Discworld, #30 & #32)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1388181365s/7881001.jpg|22017239]. Which nicely brings me to:
THE NOVEL ITSELF
'The Shepherd's Crown' sees a return of both Tiffany Aching, now a young Witch setting out on her career path, and those Nac Mac Feegles. There's a strong sense of change throughout, kicked off by the surprising early exit of a previous major character in the entire series, leading to old foes - the Elves - to try to make their way back into the world. These Elves, remember, are *not* the dainty do-gooders of Tolkien: these are nasty, malicious, self-serving creatures who last attempted to invade in [b: Lords and Ladies|34529|Lords and Ladies (Discworld, #14; Witches #4)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1469186110s/34529.jpg|1185086], before eventually being defeated by Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg and Magrat Garlik. Those three characters make a return in this, as well as bit-parts for the Arch-Chancellor of Unseen University, Ponder Stibbons (and HEX) alongside King Verence and the Patrician. Despite all these, the novel, however, is really Tiffany's story, and of how she finds her feet in the circumstances into which she is rather abruptly thrown. There's also a plot element that recalls [b: Equal Rites|34507|Equal Rites (Discworld, #3; Witches, #1)|Terry Pratchett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1407706800s/34507.jpg|583611]: that of a person wanting to do a role that is generally considered to be that for a member of the opposite sex.
As always, footnotes are present and correct, with the novel even raising a few laugh-out-loud moments. While the story does finish with the words 'THE END', the world itself will continue on: all that has come to an end is our ability to peek into it.
In the words of the Nac Mac Feegle: "Waily waily waily ..."
Rating for the series: 5*
Rating for the novel: 4*
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated I Am Not Okay With This in TV
Mar 3, 2020
Proof that Netflix can rule your life, in an OK way, I guess. Every time I have dropped in for the last two weeks, this is the show they went out of their way to push on me. I watched the trailer and thought hmm, I don’t get it… but after relentless publicity I ended up watching the entire first series within 36 hours of its release on February 26th. Which is easy enough to do, as the entire first series only lasts 2 1/2 hours, in 7 x 23 minute easy to swallow episodes. Another nice tactic for the attention deficient generation.
Based on the graphic novels of Charles Forsman, who also gave us The End of the F***ing World – an equally dark edged teen angst story, that has had 2 full seasons of similarly short episodes. It also continues the partnership of that series’ main director, British born Jonathon Entwistle, who seems happily stuck with this genre on his, as yet, limited CV. It stars the quirky charm of Sophia Lillis, best known from the It reboot movies, and Wyatt Oleff, also plucked from that franchise. And, oh yeah, it shares production credits with a small show called Stranger Things; so it has a pop culture pedigree 100% guaranteed to attract a young audience.
In terms of tone and direction, it does wobble at the beginning, but also shows a lot of promise, thanks largely to the watchability of Lillis, who is perfectly cast as a nervy, nerdy teen with a lot of smarts, but not too many friends. The humour is black, the satire subtle, and the delivery is disarmingly adult; on the surface this is a high school comedy, but underneath it is a fucked up, biting exploration of grief, paranoia and anger (mis)management – it pushes boundaries on content, visually and in use of language that only Netflix can endorse and get away with. Which of course is what audiences want!
The premise is that after the suicide of her father, 17 year old Sydney Novak is having some emotional issues beyond the normal teenage stuff of zits on your thighs. As she keeps a secret journal to document her worries and thoughts (heard in voice-over consistently, giving it a definite graphic novel thought bubble vibe) we are in from the start on the possibility she may have a dubious superpower linked to being pissed off.
It takes a while for that aspect to kick in, however, so don’t expect big, showy, superhero set pieces; this is a comedy drama that borrows from every teenage trope available, and is focussed more on the troubles of high school, a single mom and general growing pains. It is funny – I laughed, and found it a charming mix of something really modern feeling, but with retro vibes; it is clearly 2020, but could be 1985, a trick Stranger Things has taught them well.
Really, it is almost all over before it gets started, with these brief episode times – which is smart; no time to waste, so it moves along, and is always endearingly entertaining. In essence, what we have here is a 2 1/2 hour pilot show, chopped into bite sized chunks and released as a tease for the main show, which will be series 2. Think of it as an origin story, if you will. Undoubtedly, that 2nd series is already on the way. Early critical response is solid, and in about another month you will be hearing everyone and their cat talking about it, for sure.
The lack of originality didn’t massively bother me, as you could see what they were trying to do with it, and the large appeal is to recreate a teen world that feels familiar and comfortable, and then play with those preconceptions, choosing the right moments to flip it upside down. Which eventually it does. The final episode of seven is an absolute doozy! Talk about teasing cliff-hangers! They really know how to keep us hooked!
The best thing about it, by a country mile, is the obvious star quality of Sophia Lillis, who must surely use this as a stepping-stone to a fine career, if she can master the emotional scenes as well as the charming quirky ones, at which she already excels. She reminds me a lot of Ellen Page, without the unlikely gravitas… yet. There is time to mature. I will be there for season 2 for sure, so it will be exciting to find out where it all goes next – this is a big opportunity for a BIG little show. I am only half sure they won’t fuck it up…
Based on the graphic novels of Charles Forsman, who also gave us The End of the F***ing World – an equally dark edged teen angst story, that has had 2 full seasons of similarly short episodes. It also continues the partnership of that series’ main director, British born Jonathon Entwistle, who seems happily stuck with this genre on his, as yet, limited CV. It stars the quirky charm of Sophia Lillis, best known from the It reboot movies, and Wyatt Oleff, also plucked from that franchise. And, oh yeah, it shares production credits with a small show called Stranger Things; so it has a pop culture pedigree 100% guaranteed to attract a young audience.
In terms of tone and direction, it does wobble at the beginning, but also shows a lot of promise, thanks largely to the watchability of Lillis, who is perfectly cast as a nervy, nerdy teen with a lot of smarts, but not too many friends. The humour is black, the satire subtle, and the delivery is disarmingly adult; on the surface this is a high school comedy, but underneath it is a fucked up, biting exploration of grief, paranoia and anger (mis)management – it pushes boundaries on content, visually and in use of language that only Netflix can endorse and get away with. Which of course is what audiences want!
The premise is that after the suicide of her father, 17 year old Sydney Novak is having some emotional issues beyond the normal teenage stuff of zits on your thighs. As she keeps a secret journal to document her worries and thoughts (heard in voice-over consistently, giving it a definite graphic novel thought bubble vibe) we are in from the start on the possibility she may have a dubious superpower linked to being pissed off.
It takes a while for that aspect to kick in, however, so don’t expect big, showy, superhero set pieces; this is a comedy drama that borrows from every teenage trope available, and is focussed more on the troubles of high school, a single mom and general growing pains. It is funny – I laughed, and found it a charming mix of something really modern feeling, but with retro vibes; it is clearly 2020, but could be 1985, a trick Stranger Things has taught them well.
Really, it is almost all over before it gets started, with these brief episode times – which is smart; no time to waste, so it moves along, and is always endearingly entertaining. In essence, what we have here is a 2 1/2 hour pilot show, chopped into bite sized chunks and released as a tease for the main show, which will be series 2. Think of it as an origin story, if you will. Undoubtedly, that 2nd series is already on the way. Early critical response is solid, and in about another month you will be hearing everyone and their cat talking about it, for sure.
The lack of originality didn’t massively bother me, as you could see what they were trying to do with it, and the large appeal is to recreate a teen world that feels familiar and comfortable, and then play with those preconceptions, choosing the right moments to flip it upside down. Which eventually it does. The final episode of seven is an absolute doozy! Talk about teasing cliff-hangers! They really know how to keep us hooked!
The best thing about it, by a country mile, is the obvious star quality of Sophia Lillis, who must surely use this as a stepping-stone to a fine career, if she can master the emotional scenes as well as the charming quirky ones, at which she already excels. She reminds me a lot of Ellen Page, without the unlikely gravitas… yet. There is time to mature. I will be there for season 2 for sure, so it will be exciting to find out where it all goes next – this is a big opportunity for a BIG little show. I am only half sure they won’t fuck it up…
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Death to 2020 in TV
Jan 22, 2021
The annual event of Charlie Brooker’s Yearly Wipe is the one piece of satire I have been sure not to miss over the years. But 2020 has been a bit different, and finding himself in lockdown like everyone else, Brooker re-imagines the format into a full on talking-heads mockumentary that does away with himself as host in favour of a cross Atlantic vibe and a narration from the bass tones of Laurence Fishburne, no less.
There are also some random big names delivering the sarcastic views on the headlines too: Samuel L. Jackson kicks it all off; Hugh Grant adds to his list of heavily made up characters (and is probably the highlight) as a crusty old historian who struggles to put it all into context; Lisa Kudrow represents the Trump mentality in the form of a Republican press officer who plays hard and loose with the facts and the enforcement of facts; and even Tracey Ullman is dragged out of obscurity to play The Queen (which I didn’t entirely see the point of).
Last, but actually far from least, is Joe Keery, who most will recognise as Steve Harrington in Stranger Things – he represents all youth and the social media generation, claiming some of the most pertinent lines of observation about attitudes and the need to be noticed and relevant, using the news as a basis to flaunt your own opinion and gain followers, as well as a soapbox to show the world how much you have suffered as the world suffers.
Diane Morgan, known for her hilarious regilar turns as Philomena Cunk, tries out an alternate role as the world’s most average woman, who has “finished” Netflix, but understands little of what has happened around her own bubble in the world at large. I mean, it is baffling, all of it! And together these voices and others fairly represent a lot of different types of fool to be lampooned. I missed Cunk, but essentially it served the same purpose.
You can expect from the Brooker team there will be no punches pulled, and at its best moments, Death to 2020, is almost worth standing up and applauding for making sense of things we have all been thinking for almost a year. Of course, part of the joke being that to make an historical documentary about a year that wasn’t even over at the time it was released on Netflix is as bizarre and ridiculous as the way any other news item has been the entire time we have experienced it in reality.
There is a British slant on things for a while, but inevitably the target becomes the US election and the Trump administration, which is a gold mine for all things silly, because it barely needs admonishing to become entirely bonkers! I felt like it could have been a little longer than just over an hour, to fit every angle of Covid and Trump and Boris and everything else in, but it also almost outstays its welcome as it is, so in the end I think they made the right call in leaving some issues out. Despite that it does move along at such a pace that often the joke flies past you before you can properly think about it.
The problem with it as a production is that it is neither a movie or a TV show, but some kind of inbetween thing, with as many ideas that don’t work as the ones that do, and not as many laugh out loud moments as there maybe should have been. Nor were there many moments of real weight, where the rug of comedy is pulled from under your feet and the truth and gravity of events is seen in terrifying reality and perspective for a moment – a trick Brooker usually employs on Yearly Wipe. And that was a shame. I missed that part of it, and felt it needed it.
For me, it was a take it or leave it kind of thing. Sure, it killed an hour or so and wasn’t bad in any way, but it wasn’t anything you’re gonna be shouting from the rooftops about. Maybe one or two moments will come up in conversation between two friends that saw it, but no one is saying “wow, that really hit the nail on the head”. Rather, it was a little silly, somewhat distracting and entirely throw-away.
Bring back the old format, Charlie, when you can. It was much more effective, and funny! I think you know that yourself.
There are also some random big names delivering the sarcastic views on the headlines too: Samuel L. Jackson kicks it all off; Hugh Grant adds to his list of heavily made up characters (and is probably the highlight) as a crusty old historian who struggles to put it all into context; Lisa Kudrow represents the Trump mentality in the form of a Republican press officer who plays hard and loose with the facts and the enforcement of facts; and even Tracey Ullman is dragged out of obscurity to play The Queen (which I didn’t entirely see the point of).
Last, but actually far from least, is Joe Keery, who most will recognise as Steve Harrington in Stranger Things – he represents all youth and the social media generation, claiming some of the most pertinent lines of observation about attitudes and the need to be noticed and relevant, using the news as a basis to flaunt your own opinion and gain followers, as well as a soapbox to show the world how much you have suffered as the world suffers.
Diane Morgan, known for her hilarious regilar turns as Philomena Cunk, tries out an alternate role as the world’s most average woman, who has “finished” Netflix, but understands little of what has happened around her own bubble in the world at large. I mean, it is baffling, all of it! And together these voices and others fairly represent a lot of different types of fool to be lampooned. I missed Cunk, but essentially it served the same purpose.
You can expect from the Brooker team there will be no punches pulled, and at its best moments, Death to 2020, is almost worth standing up and applauding for making sense of things we have all been thinking for almost a year. Of course, part of the joke being that to make an historical documentary about a year that wasn’t even over at the time it was released on Netflix is as bizarre and ridiculous as the way any other news item has been the entire time we have experienced it in reality.
There is a British slant on things for a while, but inevitably the target becomes the US election and the Trump administration, which is a gold mine for all things silly, because it barely needs admonishing to become entirely bonkers! I felt like it could have been a little longer than just over an hour, to fit every angle of Covid and Trump and Boris and everything else in, but it also almost outstays its welcome as it is, so in the end I think they made the right call in leaving some issues out. Despite that it does move along at such a pace that often the joke flies past you before you can properly think about it.
The problem with it as a production is that it is neither a movie or a TV show, but some kind of inbetween thing, with as many ideas that don’t work as the ones that do, and not as many laugh out loud moments as there maybe should have been. Nor were there many moments of real weight, where the rug of comedy is pulled from under your feet and the truth and gravity of events is seen in terrifying reality and perspective for a moment – a trick Brooker usually employs on Yearly Wipe. And that was a shame. I missed that part of it, and felt it needed it.
For me, it was a take it or leave it kind of thing. Sure, it killed an hour or so and wasn’t bad in any way, but it wasn’t anything you’re gonna be shouting from the rooftops about. Maybe one or two moments will come up in conversation between two friends that saw it, but no one is saying “wow, that really hit the nail on the head”. Rather, it was a little silly, somewhat distracting and entirely throw-away.
Bring back the old format, Charlie, when you can. It was much more effective, and funny! I think you know that yourself.
I have a tough time reviewing books about Black Feminism. I enjoy reading them - well, maybe "enjoy" isn't quite the right word. They can be tough. I am glad to have read them. But how to review them? I'm a white woman, it's not really my place to critique these works. But it would be remiss of me to not talk about them - denying them the same space on my blog that I give to everything else I read is its own kind of erasure. I'm not sure how best to resolve this, but for this specific book, at least, I can talk about what I learned from it.
What I learned is that some of my childhood was straight-up racist. I always thought of my childhood as pretty idyllic - my parents were high school sweethearts, and to this day still adore each other. We lived in a house my parents owned. (My most formative years were actually spent in the house my mother grew up in; my parents bought it from my grandparents when I was seven.) We got to run around and play on a quiet neighborhood street where we knew all of our neighbors. We had pets of various species, we got technology fairly quickly since my father was a computer geek, we had a garden out back that Mom canned beans out of every year.
But I was homeschooled until eighth grade. (With Bob Jones and Abeka Books, notoriously Christian curriculum. I thought humans lived with dinosaurs well into my twenties.) We went to a conservative Christian church every Sunday. (And Tuesday. And some Fridays.) While my parents taught that I could be anything I wanted to be, the church definitely over rode that with "women should be subservient to men" and "don't trust your own judgment, ask God/your parents/the elders."
The incident that Jerkins' book brought back to mind, though, was a party I went to. I'm pretty sure it was someone's birthday party, but at a church. Not our church. There were a lot of people, though, so I could be wrong about the birthday party. It was this party where I got the tiny scar in my eyebrow - some kid broke the bat on the pinata and threw it behind him, where it hit me in the face. Before that, though, was the cake walk. There were footprints laid out on the concrete floor, and we paced around them while music played, kind of like musical chairs, I think. (I was younger than ten, my memory is a little fuzzy.) I won the cake! I thought nothing of this until reading This Will Be My Undoing.
"The cakewalk was a dance performed in the late nineteenth century at slave get-togethers. You lean or rear back and kick your feet out left and right or vice versa as you move forward......White people would watch them dance, fascinated by the exoticness of it all. These spectacles were purposeful humiliations. But the cakewalk evolved as slaves' own form of subversion. While serving at large and fancy parties in the early 1800s, they would watch well-to-do white people perform strict and stiff dances, like cotillions and quadrilles, and mimic them, exaggerating the bowing and small skips and hops and adding some high steps and jumps. In diaries kept by white people in the antebellum South, the cakewalk is not depicted as a form of satire. After all, why would a sweet slave mock his benevolent master? To white people's eyes, this imitation seemed like flattery. They were delighted that the slaves were attempting their civilized dances. In fact, they would hold competitions and the winning slaves would receive a cake, hence the name. Yet they were being mocked, right in front of their faces."
WHY WAS THIS BEING HELD AT A CHURCH PARTY? I don't recall if it was all white kids, but it probably was. My hometown was not very ethnically diverse. The more I learn - academically, politically, socially, secularly - the more I realize my childhood was pretty fucked up in a lot of different ways. I don't know if it was more or less fucked up than most white kids' childhoods - white supremacy is insidious. I was an ignorant child at the time, but to realize, decades later, how racist holding a cakewalk is, stopped me in my tracks. (Incidentally, this means that calling something "a cakewalk" has its roots in racism, like so many other things in our language. Cakewalks weren't easy - but the best dancers made them look that way.)
So that's what I can say about this book. I learned something about my childhood. Beyond that, all I will offer is that Jerkins is an excellent writer; the book flows well and is an easy read, despite the subject matter not being easy. Read it. It's important.
You can find all my reviews at http://goddessinthestacks.com
What I learned is that some of my childhood was straight-up racist. I always thought of my childhood as pretty idyllic - my parents were high school sweethearts, and to this day still adore each other. We lived in a house my parents owned. (My most formative years were actually spent in the house my mother grew up in; my parents bought it from my grandparents when I was seven.) We got to run around and play on a quiet neighborhood street where we knew all of our neighbors. We had pets of various species, we got technology fairly quickly since my father was a computer geek, we had a garden out back that Mom canned beans out of every year.
But I was homeschooled until eighth grade. (With Bob Jones and Abeka Books, notoriously Christian curriculum. I thought humans lived with dinosaurs well into my twenties.) We went to a conservative Christian church every Sunday. (And Tuesday. And some Fridays.) While my parents taught that I could be anything I wanted to be, the church definitely over rode that with "women should be subservient to men" and "don't trust your own judgment, ask God/your parents/the elders."
The incident that Jerkins' book brought back to mind, though, was a party I went to. I'm pretty sure it was someone's birthday party, but at a church. Not our church. There were a lot of people, though, so I could be wrong about the birthday party. It was this party where I got the tiny scar in my eyebrow - some kid broke the bat on the pinata and threw it behind him, where it hit me in the face. Before that, though, was the cake walk. There were footprints laid out on the concrete floor, and we paced around them while music played, kind of like musical chairs, I think. (I was younger than ten, my memory is a little fuzzy.) I won the cake! I thought nothing of this until reading This Will Be My Undoing.
"The cakewalk was a dance performed in the late nineteenth century at slave get-togethers. You lean or rear back and kick your feet out left and right or vice versa as you move forward......White people would watch them dance, fascinated by the exoticness of it all. These spectacles were purposeful humiliations. But the cakewalk evolved as slaves' own form of subversion. While serving at large and fancy parties in the early 1800s, they would watch well-to-do white people perform strict and stiff dances, like cotillions and quadrilles, and mimic them, exaggerating the bowing and small skips and hops and adding some high steps and jumps. In diaries kept by white people in the antebellum South, the cakewalk is not depicted as a form of satire. After all, why would a sweet slave mock his benevolent master? To white people's eyes, this imitation seemed like flattery. They were delighted that the slaves were attempting their civilized dances. In fact, they would hold competitions and the winning slaves would receive a cake, hence the name. Yet they were being mocked, right in front of their faces."
WHY WAS THIS BEING HELD AT A CHURCH PARTY? I don't recall if it was all white kids, but it probably was. My hometown was not very ethnically diverse. The more I learn - academically, politically, socially, secularly - the more I realize my childhood was pretty fucked up in a lot of different ways. I don't know if it was more or less fucked up than most white kids' childhoods - white supremacy is insidious. I was an ignorant child at the time, but to realize, decades later, how racist holding a cakewalk is, stopped me in my tracks. (Incidentally, this means that calling something "a cakewalk" has its roots in racism, like so many other things in our language. Cakewalks weren't easy - but the best dancers made them look that way.)
So that's what I can say about this book. I learned something about my childhood. Beyond that, all I will offer is that Jerkins is an excellent writer; the book flows well and is an easy read, despite the subject matter not being easy. Read it. It's important.
You can find all my reviews at http://goddessinthestacks.com
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated Death Race (2008) in Movies
Aug 14, 2019
In 1975, legendary B-movie producer Roger Corman showed audiences a look at the near future with a biting film that deftly blended action and political commentary and satire. The film was “Death Race 2000” and starred David Carradine and featured a pre-“Rocky” Sylvester Stallone as bitter rivals in a brutal cross country race where finishing first was second only to the amount of death and carnage a driver left in their wake.
The film became a cult hit, and paved the way for films such as “Rollerball”, “Arena”, and countless other films that featured bloodlust sporting events for the masses a la Rome in the age of gladiators at the coliseum. Thirty-three years later, audiences are given the new and upgraded “Death Race” which benefits from a bigger budget with more carnage than the original film that inspired it ever dreamed of.
The film opens with an eerie warning of today’s troubled economic times, stating that the U.S.
economy collapses in 2012 and record unemployment and crime sweep the nation. With prisons overcrowded, corporations run correctional facilities for a profit and soon offer caged matches between inmates for the viewing pleasure of the nation. At first the matches are a huge success but soon lose their appeal to an audience that is eager for even bloodier sport.
In an effort to keep the cash flowing, the Death Race is created which pits convicts against one another in a brutal mix of speed, firepower, and death which in a few years surpasses even the Super Bowl as the most watched sporting event in the world.
Jason Statham stars as Jensen Ames, a former race driver who is framed for the murder of his wife and faces the prospect of life in prison while his daughter is raised by strangers. With the Death Race losing some if its audience, its creator, and warden of the prison, Hennessey (Joan Allen), offers Jensen a solution to both of their problems. If Jensen will pose as the masked Frankenstein for the race and win, he will be granted his freedom. It is learned that the real Frankenstein has finally succumbed to the numerous injuries he has incurred racing, and rather than risk losing his vast legions of fans who drive the ratings, it is easier to replace him than lose him, especially since recent races without Frankenstein had not garnered the same ratings as his past races.
It is explained that should a driver win five death races, they will be set free. Since Frankenstein has won four races, all Jensen has to do is win the race and stay alive to earn his freedom. Jensen is faced with an menacing list of adversaries including the deadly Machine Gun Joe (Tyrese Gibson), who is the biggest threat to Jensen with an absolute hatred for Frankenstein. Gun Joe is a cold-blooded killer who wants nothing more than two more race wins to earn his freedom and will stop at nothing to get it.
Jensen is assisted by the talented Coach (Ian McShane), who dispenses wisdom while overseeing the crew that outfits Jensen’s suped up, armor-plated, and very heavily armed racer. Assigned to ride with Jensen as his Navigator is Case (Natalie Martinez), a female prisoner who, like many of her fellow navigators, sees the race as a chance to earn their freedom and other special perks which makes risking their lives a worthwhile endeavor.
As the race unfolds in three stages, Jensen is tasked with not only surviving the threats Machine Gun Joe and the other racers aim his way, but surviving the twisted scheme that has him in its grasp.
The action of the film is fast, brutal, and unforgiving and is easily the highlight of the film. Sadly there are plenty of scenes with stiff and uninspired characters, numerous plot holes and leaps of logic, and clichés that bog the film down.
Statham is his usual soft talking hard man, a character he has made a career out of playing in such films as the “Crank” and the “Transporter” series. But unlike those films, he is not given much material to work with here. Statham has done solid work in the past but Jensen is a paper thin character who never fully given a chance to develop nor be embraced by the audience.
The same is true for the rest of the cast, a talented ensemble left to languish in want of better material. The film is directed by Paul W.S. Anderson of the “Resident Evil” series who once again shows that he has an eye for action, but still has issues with pacing and unsympathetic characters. This is a shame as the premise of the film is solid, but unlike the original, lacks the social and political commentary needed to balance the carnage and mayhem.
With a little more time in shop and tinkering, this could have been a solid action film, instead it stalls at the starting line badly in need of a tune up.
The film became a cult hit, and paved the way for films such as “Rollerball”, “Arena”, and countless other films that featured bloodlust sporting events for the masses a la Rome in the age of gladiators at the coliseum. Thirty-three years later, audiences are given the new and upgraded “Death Race” which benefits from a bigger budget with more carnage than the original film that inspired it ever dreamed of.
The film opens with an eerie warning of today’s troubled economic times, stating that the U.S.
economy collapses in 2012 and record unemployment and crime sweep the nation. With prisons overcrowded, corporations run correctional facilities for a profit and soon offer caged matches between inmates for the viewing pleasure of the nation. At first the matches are a huge success but soon lose their appeal to an audience that is eager for even bloodier sport.
In an effort to keep the cash flowing, the Death Race is created which pits convicts against one another in a brutal mix of speed, firepower, and death which in a few years surpasses even the Super Bowl as the most watched sporting event in the world.
Jason Statham stars as Jensen Ames, a former race driver who is framed for the murder of his wife and faces the prospect of life in prison while his daughter is raised by strangers. With the Death Race losing some if its audience, its creator, and warden of the prison, Hennessey (Joan Allen), offers Jensen a solution to both of their problems. If Jensen will pose as the masked Frankenstein for the race and win, he will be granted his freedom. It is learned that the real Frankenstein has finally succumbed to the numerous injuries he has incurred racing, and rather than risk losing his vast legions of fans who drive the ratings, it is easier to replace him than lose him, especially since recent races without Frankenstein had not garnered the same ratings as his past races.
It is explained that should a driver win five death races, they will be set free. Since Frankenstein has won four races, all Jensen has to do is win the race and stay alive to earn his freedom. Jensen is faced with an menacing list of adversaries including the deadly Machine Gun Joe (Tyrese Gibson), who is the biggest threat to Jensen with an absolute hatred for Frankenstein. Gun Joe is a cold-blooded killer who wants nothing more than two more race wins to earn his freedom and will stop at nothing to get it.
Jensen is assisted by the talented Coach (Ian McShane), who dispenses wisdom while overseeing the crew that outfits Jensen’s suped up, armor-plated, and very heavily armed racer. Assigned to ride with Jensen as his Navigator is Case (Natalie Martinez), a female prisoner who, like many of her fellow navigators, sees the race as a chance to earn their freedom and other special perks which makes risking their lives a worthwhile endeavor.
As the race unfolds in three stages, Jensen is tasked with not only surviving the threats Machine Gun Joe and the other racers aim his way, but surviving the twisted scheme that has him in its grasp.
The action of the film is fast, brutal, and unforgiving and is easily the highlight of the film. Sadly there are plenty of scenes with stiff and uninspired characters, numerous plot holes and leaps of logic, and clichés that bog the film down.
Statham is his usual soft talking hard man, a character he has made a career out of playing in such films as the “Crank” and the “Transporter” series. But unlike those films, he is not given much material to work with here. Statham has done solid work in the past but Jensen is a paper thin character who never fully given a chance to develop nor be embraced by the audience.
The same is true for the rest of the cast, a talented ensemble left to languish in want of better material. The film is directed by Paul W.S. Anderson of the “Resident Evil” series who once again shows that he has an eye for action, but still has issues with pacing and unsympathetic characters. This is a shame as the premise of the film is solid, but unlike the original, lacks the social and political commentary needed to balance the carnage and mayhem.
With a little more time in shop and tinkering, this could have been a solid action film, instead it stalls at the starting line badly in need of a tune up.
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Parasite (2019) in Movies
Jan 22, 2021 (Updated Jan 22, 2021)
Hello there! It’s been six weeks since my last post – Covid 19 related restriction issues sent me to a very odd place mentally and it has taken me a while to snap out of it enough to have the energy and will to keep writing these reviews. But what better way to recomense than with the history making Best Picture film from earlier in this strange year of 2020, before all the things that changed our way of thinking began?
The hype surrounding this movie in January was immense, for a film coming from Korea out of the blue, with an image and plot that didn’t fit into any of the normal marketing boxes. Every review ranged from this is incredible to… just see it for yourself. Nothing could have been more intriguing. I was certainly hooked on the idea, although by the time the Oscars came around I still hadn’t managed to see it at the cinema.
I found it fascinating that the academy had chosen 2020 as the year to change the dodgy sounding “Best Foreign Language film” to “Best International film”. It was about time, really, to acknowledge the us and them philosophy of world cinema didn’t really wash. And as the sublime Roma had paved the way for non English films to be considered again in all the main categories as serious contenders, I just had a feeling this was the year Oscar would make a statement with this film.
And so it turned out to be. It was a strong year. At the time I was a huge Joker advocate, having not yet seen 1917 either. Looking back now, I think, although not as perfect as Roma the year before, Parasite certainly deserves the praise and accolades it garnered from all around the world. Although any of those 3 films (Parasite, 1917 and Joker) would have been obvious winners in any other less competitive year.
So what is it about Parasite that raises it above the masses? Well, for a start it looks both beautiful and awe inspiring in every shot. Each image is designed and framed expertly to create a montage of mood and form that holds the multi-layered storytelling in place. Rarely have I seen such a well balanced and crisp visual design for a film, of any kind. Even with the subtitles off there is plenty to engage the eye and mind here. But it’s real secret is how it draws you in to believing you are watching one kind of satirical drama for about 40 minutes and then punches you in the solar plexus with the revelation that it has mutated into something darker, weirder and more entertaining on every level.
The “twist” when it comes along is so well placed and unexpected, even if you are told to expect one, that it entirely transforms your experience. You have been engaging with social issues and a basic satire on the rich vs the poor, where true power is a good wifi signal, and then, blam, you are watching a modern horror story with truly disturbing ramifications. I found this gear shift riveting and striking in a way that I can’t remember from a film in a long time.
But, looking back on it after several months, is that tonal shift really a strength? Some criticism, however minor in the scheme of things, did point this out, that what we get with Parasite is an unfocused and confused mix of genres that doesn’t entirely cohere. I mean, I see that, but have to disagree, simply because the writing at every point is too intelligent and sharp to give a damn about staying still and balanced on just one idea. Parasite is an exercise in energetic chaos that juggles many balls, all as interesting as one another, without dropping any of them.
Poverty, class, elitism, generational gaps, vanity, work ethics and morality, roles within a family unit, loyalty, weakness, revenge and bitterness are all themes here, and many more. Start going down the alley of one conversation that Parasite starts and end up somewhere entirely different in just a few sentences. And that is why it is worth seeing, several times. And that is why it works and was rewarded.
Is it a film I will be keen to see over again as the years pass? Yes and no. I’d probably be most interested to see it with someone who hasn’t seen it, to see their reaction. But I’m much less likely to give it multiple watches than the previous mentioned Joker and 1917, or indeed Roma, which I just can’t help comparing it to, even though they have virtually nothing in common, as I wish it had been Roma that made history at the awards rather than this. Of course, it is personal taste at that level of quality, but I believe Roma to be the better film.
If nothing else, however, Parasite marks the graduation of Bong Joon Ho, from a quirky filmmaker, whose interesting but not quite great near misses include The Host, Snowpiercer and Okja – all entertaining but flawed – to an auteur of considerable skill. Will the elements of his mind and vision ever align this well again. I hope so. I’ll be looking out for it, as will the rest of the world now.
The hype surrounding this movie in January was immense, for a film coming from Korea out of the blue, with an image and plot that didn’t fit into any of the normal marketing boxes. Every review ranged from this is incredible to… just see it for yourself. Nothing could have been more intriguing. I was certainly hooked on the idea, although by the time the Oscars came around I still hadn’t managed to see it at the cinema.
I found it fascinating that the academy had chosen 2020 as the year to change the dodgy sounding “Best Foreign Language film” to “Best International film”. It was about time, really, to acknowledge the us and them philosophy of world cinema didn’t really wash. And as the sublime Roma had paved the way for non English films to be considered again in all the main categories as serious contenders, I just had a feeling this was the year Oscar would make a statement with this film.
And so it turned out to be. It was a strong year. At the time I was a huge Joker advocate, having not yet seen 1917 either. Looking back now, I think, although not as perfect as Roma the year before, Parasite certainly deserves the praise and accolades it garnered from all around the world. Although any of those 3 films (Parasite, 1917 and Joker) would have been obvious winners in any other less competitive year.
So what is it about Parasite that raises it above the masses? Well, for a start it looks both beautiful and awe inspiring in every shot. Each image is designed and framed expertly to create a montage of mood and form that holds the multi-layered storytelling in place. Rarely have I seen such a well balanced and crisp visual design for a film, of any kind. Even with the subtitles off there is plenty to engage the eye and mind here. But it’s real secret is how it draws you in to believing you are watching one kind of satirical drama for about 40 minutes and then punches you in the solar plexus with the revelation that it has mutated into something darker, weirder and more entertaining on every level.
The “twist” when it comes along is so well placed and unexpected, even if you are told to expect one, that it entirely transforms your experience. You have been engaging with social issues and a basic satire on the rich vs the poor, where true power is a good wifi signal, and then, blam, you are watching a modern horror story with truly disturbing ramifications. I found this gear shift riveting and striking in a way that I can’t remember from a film in a long time.
But, looking back on it after several months, is that tonal shift really a strength? Some criticism, however minor in the scheme of things, did point this out, that what we get with Parasite is an unfocused and confused mix of genres that doesn’t entirely cohere. I mean, I see that, but have to disagree, simply because the writing at every point is too intelligent and sharp to give a damn about staying still and balanced on just one idea. Parasite is an exercise in energetic chaos that juggles many balls, all as interesting as one another, without dropping any of them.
Poverty, class, elitism, generational gaps, vanity, work ethics and morality, roles within a family unit, loyalty, weakness, revenge and bitterness are all themes here, and many more. Start going down the alley of one conversation that Parasite starts and end up somewhere entirely different in just a few sentences. And that is why it is worth seeing, several times. And that is why it works and was rewarded.
Is it a film I will be keen to see over again as the years pass? Yes and no. I’d probably be most interested to see it with someone who hasn’t seen it, to see their reaction. But I’m much less likely to give it multiple watches than the previous mentioned Joker and 1917, or indeed Roma, which I just can’t help comparing it to, even though they have virtually nothing in common, as I wish it had been Roma that made history at the awards rather than this. Of course, it is personal taste at that level of quality, but I believe Roma to be the better film.
If nothing else, however, Parasite marks the graduation of Bong Joon Ho, from a quirky filmmaker, whose interesting but not quite great near misses include The Host, Snowpiercer and Okja – all entertaining but flawed – to an auteur of considerable skill. Will the elements of his mind and vision ever align this well again. I hope so. I’ll be looking out for it, as will the rest of the world now.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated Downsizing (2017) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
Tiny People, Big Mess.
From the trailer this film looked quirky, funny and interesting and has been on my “looking forward to” list for many months. Oh dear, what a let down.
Matt Damon (“The Martian“, “The Great Wall“, “Jason Bourne“) and Kristen Wiig (“mother!“, “Ghostbusters“) play Paul and Audrey Safranek. Paul is a laid-back and hardworking occupational therapist; Audrey has materialistic ambitions over and above their available finances. The two decide to “downsize” making use of a revolutionary Norwegian invention that reduces humans, and most other lifeforms, to a fraction of their normal size. This offers huge wealth to the normal American, since the cost of living in downsized form within the mini-estate called LeisureLand is tiny in comparison to “big folks”. But all does not go well in the transition (unlike the trailer, no spoilers here) and Paul needs to find a new purpose in life as bigger problems loom.
It’s clearly written to be a social satire, and there are some clever angles to be explored here: everyone publicly positions their downsizing based on ‘environmental issues’ and ‘saving the planet’, but most everyone’s real reason is the lifestyle benefits. Also lightly touched on, but never deeply explored, are the impacts that the downsizing initiative is having on the broader American economy and property markets, with the ‘big people’ questioning why small people should have the same rights and votes as them.
But the film never really gets into the meat of any of this. Worse than that, the movie never settles on what it is trying to be. I think we can write off “Sci-Fi” pretty early on. But is it a drama? A comedy? A love story? A socialist rant? An environmental cri de coeur? The film jumbles all these aspects together and treats each so halfheartedly that none of them get properly addressed.
Not only are the audience confused: none of the actors seem to be too sure why they’re there either. Damon – never Mr Personality – should have been able to develop some chemistry with the feisty and dynamic Ms Wiig, but even these early scenes plod along with you thinking “what a dull film”. Things perk up slightly at the LeisureLand sales fair, where Neil Patrick Harris (“Gone Girl“) and a naked Laura Dern (“Star Wars: The Last Jedi“) glibly try to sell a luxury doll’s house to the assembled crowd. American consumerism in miniature.
But post-downsizing the film crashes back to ‘Dullesville Arizona’ again, but with added depression, requiring Christophe Waltz (“Django Unchanined”, “Spectre“), as a dodgy Serbian entrepreneur Dusan Mirkovic, to over-act manically to try to add any sort of energy into the film (which he is only mildly successful at doing). There’s a rather bizarre supporting role from Udo Kier – looking for all the world like Terence Stamp – as Mirkovic’s ship-owning pal, and an almost cameo performance from Jason Sudeikis (“Colossal“).
Enter stage-left Thai-born Hong Chau as Ngoc Lan Tran, a Vietnamese cleaner. There’s a clever angle here: where “average American Joes” like Safranek can live like kings, but the poor still have to scrape by, living in ‘skyscraper Portacabins’, as the menial classes: there’s no escaping class structures, even when 5 inches tall. Chau sums up the uneven nature of the film, as she mostly plays her lines for laughs but then (in a spectacularly good bit of acting in the midst of, I have to say, some pretty poor hamming) bursts into uncontrollable tears.
Just when you think things are going to limp to a unmemorable close, the film ups and leaves LeisureLand to add a completely bizarre final act. (It’s pretty unusual in the UK for people to walk out of a cinema mid-film, but a couple did so at this point). This segment bears no relationship to the downsizing theme whatsoever, since all the players at this point could be full-sized. Aside from an amusing “50 shades of f**k” speech from Ngoc Lan Tran and a “massive explosion”, this story goes nowhere, says nothing (at least not to me) and merely irritates. Throw in a completely anti-climatic non-ending and I genuinely shared a “WTF look” with the stranger sat next to me!
This is all very strange, since this comes from Alexander Payne, who also directed and co-wrote “The Descendants”, one of the most impressive films of the decade. Jim Taylor co-writes (as he has co-written numerous other films with Payne).
I note that in this morning’s London Times that their film critic, Kevin Maher – someone who’s views I am generally pretty well aligned with – gave it 4 *’s out of 5. I can only assume that he either saw a completely different cut of the film, or he is a lot cleverer than I am and understood amazing sub-texts that completely passed me by! Maybe… but I have a sneaking suspicion that the general viewing public will more share my opinion on this than his.
I was tempted to give this just one star as it was such a disappointment to me, but the underlying concept is a good one: it is just one that has, in my humble opinion, been implemented in a bizarrely slipshod manner.
Definitely not recommended. Go and see “Coco” instead!
Matt Damon (“The Martian“, “The Great Wall“, “Jason Bourne“) and Kristen Wiig (“mother!“, “Ghostbusters“) play Paul and Audrey Safranek. Paul is a laid-back and hardworking occupational therapist; Audrey has materialistic ambitions over and above their available finances. The two decide to “downsize” making use of a revolutionary Norwegian invention that reduces humans, and most other lifeforms, to a fraction of their normal size. This offers huge wealth to the normal American, since the cost of living in downsized form within the mini-estate called LeisureLand is tiny in comparison to “big folks”. But all does not go well in the transition (unlike the trailer, no spoilers here) and Paul needs to find a new purpose in life as bigger problems loom.
It’s clearly written to be a social satire, and there are some clever angles to be explored here: everyone publicly positions their downsizing based on ‘environmental issues’ and ‘saving the planet’, but most everyone’s real reason is the lifestyle benefits. Also lightly touched on, but never deeply explored, are the impacts that the downsizing initiative is having on the broader American economy and property markets, with the ‘big people’ questioning why small people should have the same rights and votes as them.
But the film never really gets into the meat of any of this. Worse than that, the movie never settles on what it is trying to be. I think we can write off “Sci-Fi” pretty early on. But is it a drama? A comedy? A love story? A socialist rant? An environmental cri de coeur? The film jumbles all these aspects together and treats each so halfheartedly that none of them get properly addressed.
Not only are the audience confused: none of the actors seem to be too sure why they’re there either. Damon – never Mr Personality – should have been able to develop some chemistry with the feisty and dynamic Ms Wiig, but even these early scenes plod along with you thinking “what a dull film”. Things perk up slightly at the LeisureLand sales fair, where Neil Patrick Harris (“Gone Girl“) and a naked Laura Dern (“Star Wars: The Last Jedi“) glibly try to sell a luxury doll’s house to the assembled crowd. American consumerism in miniature.
But post-downsizing the film crashes back to ‘Dullesville Arizona’ again, but with added depression, requiring Christophe Waltz (“Django Unchanined”, “Spectre“), as a dodgy Serbian entrepreneur Dusan Mirkovic, to over-act manically to try to add any sort of energy into the film (which he is only mildly successful at doing). There’s a rather bizarre supporting role from Udo Kier – looking for all the world like Terence Stamp – as Mirkovic’s ship-owning pal, and an almost cameo performance from Jason Sudeikis (“Colossal“).
Enter stage-left Thai-born Hong Chau as Ngoc Lan Tran, a Vietnamese cleaner. There’s a clever angle here: where “average American Joes” like Safranek can live like kings, but the poor still have to scrape by, living in ‘skyscraper Portacabins’, as the menial classes: there’s no escaping class structures, even when 5 inches tall. Chau sums up the uneven nature of the film, as she mostly plays her lines for laughs but then (in a spectacularly good bit of acting in the midst of, I have to say, some pretty poor hamming) bursts into uncontrollable tears.
Just when you think things are going to limp to a unmemorable close, the film ups and leaves LeisureLand to add a completely bizarre final act. (It’s pretty unusual in the UK for people to walk out of a cinema mid-film, but a couple did so at this point). This segment bears no relationship to the downsizing theme whatsoever, since all the players at this point could be full-sized. Aside from an amusing “50 shades of f**k” speech from Ngoc Lan Tran and a “massive explosion”, this story goes nowhere, says nothing (at least not to me) and merely irritates. Throw in a completely anti-climatic non-ending and I genuinely shared a “WTF look” with the stranger sat next to me!
This is all very strange, since this comes from Alexander Payne, who also directed and co-wrote “The Descendants”, one of the most impressive films of the decade. Jim Taylor co-writes (as he has co-written numerous other films with Payne).
I note that in this morning’s London Times that their film critic, Kevin Maher – someone who’s views I am generally pretty well aligned with – gave it 4 *’s out of 5. I can only assume that he either saw a completely different cut of the film, or he is a lot cleverer than I am and understood amazing sub-texts that completely passed me by! Maybe… but I have a sneaking suspicion that the general viewing public will more share my opinion on this than his.
I was tempted to give this just one star as it was such a disappointment to me, but the underlying concept is a good one: it is just one that has, in my humble opinion, been implemented in a bizarrely slipshod manner.
Definitely not recommended. Go and see “Coco” instead!