Why?
Why the fuck?
I find Jack Black funny. Very much so. I absolutely fucking loved Before the Sunset, and pretty much liked everything I've seen from director Richard Linklatter. I could write a love poem to the soundtrack.
So how could they have made such a piece of unwatchable trash? And how the hell did they hoodwink everyone, including several movie reviewers I normally agree with, into liking this disastrous underdogs-beat-all-odds rotten piece of excrement?
Well, I'll just assume you've already watched it and save myself the pain of recounting it. If you must have a synopsis, dreg up the cheapest, basest, most shopworn clichés and Hollywood formulae, and stitch them together. And add a fucking bucketload of (talented) obnoxious brats.
And it's fucking WRONG. This is the kind of movie that hedges its bets by making the main character be always right (not because he's, you know, right, but because the script bends backwards to prove him right), and the 'evil' characters are either bad! bad! bad! or such a fucking caricature that it's not even funny.
Let me illustrate. The always-great Joan Cusak plays the school principal. Not a bad guy per se, just an obstacle. So they make her nice enough, but comically uptight. By the way, she's the sole likeable character in the movie. Soooo...
At one point, it becomes clear that Jack Black must seduce her. He takes advantage of her in the most cynical of ways (not physically, because, she's old! and square!). He uses her, and throws her away just like that. I really expected something to come out of it, coming from the director that made the one romantic movie I wholeheartedly embrace. But no, we can assume she is out of a job and alone by the end of the movie.
I could so easily write out the outline of an 'anti-school of rock', leaving most of the plot intact, but showing Jack Black's actions under a different light, and I guarantee you most of the audience would be out to lynch him by the end. But thanks to a fascistically manipulative assfucker of a script, people embrace him... because he's following his dreams!
I hope said people's daughters have a professor like him, and end up as drugged out groupies at age 15 for a bad hair metal band (is there another kind?)
God, I feel soiled. It's been a week since I subscribed to Lovefilm, and I've already felt the need to kickstart my blog again. Shit.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Constantine
Note from future me: Well, I was kind of a dipshit twenty years ago. TLDR is I kind of liked the imagery but I hated the movie, which makes sense since this blog back then was all about tearing into movies I hated (often exaggerating the bile for comic effect, which...hasn't aged yet!). Except when I really liked them, I guess. All of these old reviews make me cringe when I look at them, but this one went a bit over the line.
I intend to revisit this one soon-ish, which is why I got curious to see what I'd said about it. Hooboy.
King Arthur
What can you say about a film that's supposed to be based on the 'real' man behind the King Arthur legend, but does not make the least effort to portray the medieval mindset?
I can buy it if it's a fantasy flick, but in films like this one or Braveheart, it fucking revolts me. The film borrows authority from a beginning quote that vaguely states that according to 'archeological evidence', the man named Arthur probably did exist. Then it introduces at least two characters that look like they stepped right out of a coiffeur. Turns out that the realism claims are, oh surprise, a gimmick, and that the film is yet another cynic attempt to cash in on the success of the Lord of the Rings franchise (joining the ranks of Timeline and Troy). Worse yet- The one motherfucker I would like to see eaten alive by baby rats, Mr Brucken-Shiteater-heimer, is lining his pockets with this crap.
In any case, the movie is about the titular Arthur, Official representative for the American Way of Life in the dark ages, and how he is forced by the snotty and colonialist legions of Rome into one last mission deep into the wilds beyond Hadrian's wall. Historic inaccuracies aside (I would normally ignore them, but hey- the movie started it by claiming to be validated by archeologists), the movie is a mess of uninspired performances, cliches, and just bad scripting.
It looks beautiful, though, and not just because of Keira Knightley; but that's something that's been bugging me since watching Hero and the Last Samurai. Namely, that cinematographic beauty (as in aesthetics, color schemes, etc) has come to be relied on as much as other bad movies rely on CGI; Hero in particular, wants to make you believe that the silly, stupid soap opera crap that passes for a plot is art because, well, it sure is pretty crap. So no, I'm not falling for it anymore, this movie takes itself far too seriously for individual scenes to make me ignore the essential crappiness at its core.
And what the hell is up with Clive Owen? forget that none of the cast can summon up one dreg of charisma, that asshole is all but channeling Nicholas Cage! It's a bit disturbing.
Just about the only thing in this movie worth the celluloid, except for some bloody scenes, is Stellan Skarsgard as the terrifically sociopathic Saxon leader. I was actually hoping for a standard hollywood tragic ending just to see him hacking that fucking zero-charisma Arthur into little pieces; that would have meant that I would have had to watch the other underdeveloped cypher, lancelot kill him in turn, but at least he had a two-dimensional character.
Finally, I'd like to say that this rant was fueled by the director's cut edition. Not that the original cut could conceivably be even halfway decent.
Oh, and please, someone please kill that fucker of a producer before I'm suckered into watching another one of his fucking excrements. And Antoine Fucqua: Training Day was overrated as hell.
I can buy it if it's a fantasy flick, but in films like this one or Braveheart, it fucking revolts me. The film borrows authority from a beginning quote that vaguely states that according to 'archeological evidence', the man named Arthur probably did exist. Then it introduces at least two characters that look like they stepped right out of a coiffeur. Turns out that the realism claims are, oh surprise, a gimmick, and that the film is yet another cynic attempt to cash in on the success of the Lord of the Rings franchise (joining the ranks of Timeline and Troy). Worse yet- The one motherfucker I would like to see eaten alive by baby rats, Mr Brucken-Shiteater-heimer, is lining his pockets with this crap.
In any case, the movie is about the titular Arthur, Official representative for the American Way of Life in the dark ages, and how he is forced by the snotty and colonialist legions of Rome into one last mission deep into the wilds beyond Hadrian's wall. Historic inaccuracies aside (I would normally ignore them, but hey- the movie started it by claiming to be validated by archeologists), the movie is a mess of uninspired performances, cliches, and just bad scripting.
It looks beautiful, though, and not just because of Keira Knightley; but that's something that's been bugging me since watching Hero and the Last Samurai. Namely, that cinematographic beauty (as in aesthetics, color schemes, etc) has come to be relied on as much as other bad movies rely on CGI; Hero in particular, wants to make you believe that the silly, stupid soap opera crap that passes for a plot is art because, well, it sure is pretty crap. So no, I'm not falling for it anymore, this movie takes itself far too seriously for individual scenes to make me ignore the essential crappiness at its core.
And what the hell is up with Clive Owen? forget that none of the cast can summon up one dreg of charisma, that asshole is all but channeling Nicholas Cage! It's a bit disturbing.
Just about the only thing in this movie worth the celluloid, except for some bloody scenes, is Stellan Skarsgard as the terrifically sociopathic Saxon leader. I was actually hoping for a standard hollywood tragic ending just to see him hacking that fucking zero-charisma Arthur into little pieces; that would have meant that I would have had to watch the other underdeveloped cypher, lancelot kill him in turn, but at least he had a two-dimensional character.
Finally, I'd like to say that this rant was fueled by the director's cut edition. Not that the original cut could conceivably be even halfway decent.
Oh, and please, someone please kill that fucker of a producer before I'm suckered into watching another one of his fucking excrements. And Antoine Fucqua: Training Day was overrated as hell.
Monday, August 30, 2004
Troy (Movie review)
Not worth reviewing, really... generic action sequences, horrible characterizations and some of the most goddamn awful postmodern philosophizing ever added to an epic movie do this one in. Not to mention the pervading sense that it's all just a huge, wet, enthusiastic blowjob to Brad Pitt's ego.
Only a movie stealing scene by Peter O'Toole comes close to what this movie should offer. As for the rest... some good acting wasted on forgetable dialogs, some expensive-looking (but seldom impressive) scenes, and a samey sludge of a movie that somehow avoids any sort of, well, epic-ness. Avoid!
Only a movie stealing scene by Peter O'Toole comes close to what this movie should offer. As for the rest... some good acting wasted on forgetable dialogs, some expensive-looking (but seldom impressive) scenes, and a samey sludge of a movie that somehow avoids any sort of, well, epic-ness. Avoid!
Sunday, August 29, 2004
I, Robot (Movie review)
In the future... there will be... product placements.
No, seriously. The movie almost begins with a Converse ad so blatant it's funnier than the 'sell-out' segment in Wayne's World (or, come to think of it, Return of the Killer Tomatoes).
So, what else is new in one hundred years? not much; the future looks a lot like the present, but with clunky CGI effects overimposed on it, and robots doing most menial tasks. Not a lot of thought went into it, and it shows in a certain unevenness between the tech levels. Borrowing a lot more from Spielberg's Minority Report (especially in the visual department) than from Asimov's book series, the script follows the misadventures of a police detective who just doesn't trust robots as he tries to unravel the murder of an underdeveloped father figure, who also happened to be the lead researcher for the robot manufacturing company. This gradually reveals a conspiracy that could endanger the whole world, as foreshadowed by the ads for the deployment of millions of a new model of robots.
It's predictable, but not quite as dire as it sounds, and it even includes a few rather neat details. But don't worry, they manage to bring it down. The main character is an asshole, and what's worse, an asshole that the script treats as a hero... which makes it all the more grating. Will Smith, in full MiB mode, can't do anything to save the character.
In the end, I, Robot both suffers and benefits from being an action movie. Suffers, because the script ridiculously boils down the plot to a series of action setpieces, and makes character interactions a series of poses and one-liners. And it benefits, because when the action kicks in... let me put it this way- director Alex Proyas left behind the trademark aestethics of The Crow and Dark City for a standard sci-fi one, but he dedicated all his attention to getting the action sequences exactly right. The level of detail and, much more rare, inspiration they achieve are astounding; I really wouldn't hesitate much before saying they're the best action sequences I've seen since the original Matrix. They don't quite make up for the tripe and the commercials forced down our throats along the way, but damn, they come pretty close.
And that's saying something.
No, seriously. The movie almost begins with a Converse ad so blatant it's funnier than the 'sell-out' segment in Wayne's World (or, come to think of it, Return of the Killer Tomatoes).
So, what else is new in one hundred years? not much; the future looks a lot like the present, but with clunky CGI effects overimposed on it, and robots doing most menial tasks. Not a lot of thought went into it, and it shows in a certain unevenness between the tech levels. Borrowing a lot more from Spielberg's Minority Report (especially in the visual department) than from Asimov's book series, the script follows the misadventures of a police detective who just doesn't trust robots as he tries to unravel the murder of an underdeveloped father figure, who also happened to be the lead researcher for the robot manufacturing company. This gradually reveals a conspiracy that could endanger the whole world, as foreshadowed by the ads for the deployment of millions of a new model of robots.
It's predictable, but not quite as dire as it sounds, and it even includes a few rather neat details. But don't worry, they manage to bring it down. The main character is an asshole, and what's worse, an asshole that the script treats as a hero... which makes it all the more grating. Will Smith, in full MiB mode, can't do anything to save the character.
In the end, I, Robot both suffers and benefits from being an action movie. Suffers, because the script ridiculously boils down the plot to a series of action setpieces, and makes character interactions a series of poses and one-liners. And it benefits, because when the action kicks in... let me put it this way- director Alex Proyas left behind the trademark aestethics of The Crow and Dark City for a standard sci-fi one, but he dedicated all his attention to getting the action sequences exactly right. The level of detail and, much more rare, inspiration they achieve are astounding; I really wouldn't hesitate much before saying they're the best action sequences I've seen since the original Matrix. They don't quite make up for the tripe and the commercials forced down our throats along the way, but damn, they come pretty close.
And that's saying something.
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Van Helsing (Movie Review)
Stephen Sommers has finally used up whatever goodwill he gained for himself with the original Mummy. Dumb, crass beyond belief and cheap (even when wearing it's multimillion budget on its sleeve), Van Helsing fails even on its own terms, lazily throwing money away hoping to wow viewers into forgetting just how lousy it is.
Jumping from misbegotten idea to trite cliché to misbegotten idea, the action follows famed monster hunter Van Helsing (employed by the church's equivalent of the men in black) as he fights most of the classic Universal Monsters and works against their nefarious conspiracy to bring back to life ringleader Dracula's dead children. It's a ridiculous, inane premise, unfortunately unenlivened by any shade of humor or wit; while tongue-in-cheek is hinted at as early as in the opening scene (at least it could explain some of the overacting and atrocious dialogues) the director apparently opted to cut time writing the script and use it adding in new CG effects, leaving the movie's less serious side relegated to one-liners and failed attempts.
Like the awful (but much better) the Mummy Returns, Sommers tackles this one with a 'more is better' approach, tossing quality control out the window. CG is overused all throughout, often making the proceeds look more like the world's most expensive puppet show than an action/adventure flick. Even the better effects and set pieces usually collapse under their own weight after a while... The whole movie feels as if you were looking over the shoulder of someone playing a Playstation 2 game. Which seems to be a depressingly common -not to mention commercially desirable- trait these days.
The acting ranges from mediocre to incredibly bad, but it's easy to fault the script and the director for it. Characterization? inexistent, except for the barest nods to Hollywood formula. The designs look expensive and unimaginative. The music fares a bit better, though nothing to write home about.
In the end, for all its desperate antics and breakneck pacing, this movie never quite fools you into enjoying it. For all its speed, it will never outrun the smell of stale crap. To watch how a good fantasy/action movie can be made with the same formula, go watch the Mummy on video, or wait for the inexplicably delayed Hellboy.
It does have some redeeming points, however: It lacks the pretentiousness of last year's League of the Extraordinary Gentlemen. Kate Beckinsdale's tight pants are in it (also appearing as one of the few redeeming points in last year's Underworld). Hugh Jackman, for the girls. And, of course, Richard Roxburgh's horrendous overacting as Dracula... it's not quite bad enough to be good, but getting there.
Jumping from misbegotten idea to trite cliché to misbegotten idea, the action follows famed monster hunter Van Helsing (employed by the church's equivalent of the men in black) as he fights most of the classic Universal Monsters and works against their nefarious conspiracy to bring back to life ringleader Dracula's dead children. It's a ridiculous, inane premise, unfortunately unenlivened by any shade of humor or wit; while tongue-in-cheek is hinted at as early as in the opening scene (at least it could explain some of the overacting and atrocious dialogues) the director apparently opted to cut time writing the script and use it adding in new CG effects, leaving the movie's less serious side relegated to one-liners and failed attempts.
Like the awful (but much better) the Mummy Returns, Sommers tackles this one with a 'more is better' approach, tossing quality control out the window. CG is overused all throughout, often making the proceeds look more like the world's most expensive puppet show than an action/adventure flick. Even the better effects and set pieces usually collapse under their own weight after a while... The whole movie feels as if you were looking over the shoulder of someone playing a Playstation 2 game. Which seems to be a depressingly common -not to mention commercially desirable- trait these days.
The acting ranges from mediocre to incredibly bad, but it's easy to fault the script and the director for it. Characterization? inexistent, except for the barest nods to Hollywood formula. The designs look expensive and unimaginative. The music fares a bit better, though nothing to write home about.
In the end, for all its desperate antics and breakneck pacing, this movie never quite fools you into enjoying it. For all its speed, it will never outrun the smell of stale crap. To watch how a good fantasy/action movie can be made with the same formula, go watch the Mummy on video, or wait for the inexplicably delayed Hellboy.
It does have some redeeming points, however: It lacks the pretentiousness of last year's League of the Extraordinary Gentlemen. Kate Beckinsdale's tight pants are in it (also appearing as one of the few redeeming points in last year's Underworld). Hugh Jackman, for the girls. And, of course, Richard Roxburgh's horrendous overacting as Dracula... it's not quite bad enough to be good, but getting there.
Sunday, August 01, 2004
The Butterfly Effect (Review)
Pity poor pubescent Ashton. He has Issues; his father's a psychopath. His childhood sweetheart's father is a pedophile. His childhood sweetheart's brother is a murderous psychopath. His childhood buddy is borderline autistic. Thank god ol' Ashton is a regular Joe, huh? erh, did I mention he has regular blackouts?
Luckily for him, a move and several years later everything's changed for the better. Until events bring him back to those 'holes' in his memory. Soon enough, he discovers he can go back in time and alter the pivotal events he has psychically repressed. But, of course, those changes have unforeseen consequences when he returns to the present... And he's left stranded in a different now where things are somehow worse off. So, all that's left for him is to go back to a different black out and try and put things a-right. (Don't ask why it has to be a different blackout... the plot has more holes than this guy's memory)
In short, nothing you haven't seen before, borrowed liberally from any number of sources (from It's a Wonderful Life to Sliders, by way of countless sci-fi yarns). Instead of focusing on its science fiction premise, however, the flick laudably chooses to follow up on the more human side of those changes- their repercussion on each one of the main characters' lives. Two 'small' problems make caring about them impossible, however: A) the acting ranges from mediocre to truly terrible (and their lines don't help any) and B) The script is not nearly up to the task, catering to cliches, character caricatures and easy shocks, and just being generally lame.
There is a good movie somewhere in there, though, and it occasionally shines through. Musings on good and evil, and the folly of trying to change somebody's core personality permeate the movie and begin to engage interest - only to be buried at every turn by stupid plot twists and all the cartoony hairstyle-and-wardrobe variations.
The ending merits mention. Unoriginal, true, nor especially good, but it sports an emotional punch and a nod towards maturity that the rest of the flick sorely lacks. It at least puts the movie one step up from the likes of smug, post-modern crap like Final Destination... But, in a genre which so recently gave us Donnie Darko, it frankly doesn't stand a chance.
Luckily for him, a move and several years later everything's changed for the better. Until events bring him back to those 'holes' in his memory. Soon enough, he discovers he can go back in time and alter the pivotal events he has psychically repressed. But, of course, those changes have unforeseen consequences when he returns to the present... And he's left stranded in a different now where things are somehow worse off. So, all that's left for him is to go back to a different black out and try and put things a-right. (Don't ask why it has to be a different blackout... the plot has more holes than this guy's memory)
In short, nothing you haven't seen before, borrowed liberally from any number of sources (from It's a Wonderful Life to Sliders, by way of countless sci-fi yarns). Instead of focusing on its science fiction premise, however, the flick laudably chooses to follow up on the more human side of those changes- their repercussion on each one of the main characters' lives. Two 'small' problems make caring about them impossible, however: A) the acting ranges from mediocre to truly terrible (and their lines don't help any) and B) The script is not nearly up to the task, catering to cliches, character caricatures and easy shocks, and just being generally lame.
There is a good movie somewhere in there, though, and it occasionally shines through. Musings on good and evil, and the folly of trying to change somebody's core personality permeate the movie and begin to engage interest - only to be buried at every turn by stupid plot twists and all the cartoony hairstyle-and-wardrobe variations.
The ending merits mention. Unoriginal, true, nor especially good, but it sports an emotional punch and a nod towards maturity that the rest of the flick sorely lacks. It at least puts the movie one step up from the likes of smug, post-modern crap like Final Destination... But, in a genre which so recently gave us Donnie Darko, it frankly doesn't stand a chance.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Dawn of the Dead (remake) (review)
Night of the Living Dead at least had a lame excuse for getting a remake. The original was in B&W. So, ostensibly, the new version was to take the classic out of it's 'cult' status, and offer it to the unwashed masses.
No such luck with the new Dawn of the Dead, unless you consider cashing in on 28 Days Later's renewed zombie interest a valid reason for a remake. Like action, horror as a genre lends itself well to loud, dumb and fun movies. Perfectly acceptable. Too bad this one just settles for mostly damn bland.
Generic blonde woman flees from her newly zombified significant other only to find everyone else has joined the ranks of the hungry dead. She soon hooks up with a no-nonsense security guard, a straight likeable potential love interest, a dumb teen, a gangsta and some other lovable misfits, and hole up together in an abandoned mall. All sorts of crazy, undead, manflesh-eating anticts ensue.
The actors are, surprisingly, quite good. They do what little they can with the scripts they've been handed. The movie itself is very polished, in that particular way that makes hacks look trendy; expect generic flashy MTV-style editing (which, incidentally, downplays the gore, making this version much more teen-friendly than the original... take that, Mr Romero!), and that frame skipping effect that Spielberg unfortunately popularized on Saving Private Ryan.
Some clever moments aside, the flick keeps promising payoffs that rarely amount to anything. Such a damn shame, too, because when things get rolling they get quite thrilling- for a little while, at least: an early scene with a truck rear ending into a parking space (and several zombies shambling in the way) is a perfect example.
All in all, it feels as if the director had a couple of scenes he really wanted to do, and just handwaved the rest of the story together. Rather artlessly.
If (and I include myself here) an overhead shot of a propane tank exploding over a crowd justifies watching a mediocre something that can more adequately be called a product than a movie, then this is definitely for you. Otherwise stay away.
No such luck with the new Dawn of the Dead, unless you consider cashing in on 28 Days Later's renewed zombie interest a valid reason for a remake. Like action, horror as a genre lends itself well to loud, dumb and fun movies. Perfectly acceptable. Too bad this one just settles for mostly damn bland.
Generic blonde woman flees from her newly zombified significant other only to find everyone else has joined the ranks of the hungry dead. She soon hooks up with a no-nonsense security guard, a straight likeable potential love interest, a dumb teen, a gangsta and some other lovable misfits, and hole up together in an abandoned mall. All sorts of crazy, undead, manflesh-eating anticts ensue.
The actors are, surprisingly, quite good. They do what little they can with the scripts they've been handed. The movie itself is very polished, in that particular way that makes hacks look trendy; expect generic flashy MTV-style editing (which, incidentally, downplays the gore, making this version much more teen-friendly than the original... take that, Mr Romero!), and that frame skipping effect that Spielberg unfortunately popularized on Saving Private Ryan.
Some clever moments aside, the flick keeps promising payoffs that rarely amount to anything. Such a damn shame, too, because when things get rolling they get quite thrilling- for a little while, at least: an early scene with a truck rear ending into a parking space (and several zombies shambling in the way) is a perfect example.
All in all, it feels as if the director had a couple of scenes he really wanted to do, and just handwaved the rest of the story together. Rather artlessly.
If (and I include myself here) an overhead shot of a propane tank exploding over a crowd justifies watching a mediocre something that can more adequately be called a product than a movie, then this is definitely for you. Otherwise stay away.
Mission Statement
* Posting reviews on everything and anyhing culture-related that I consume. I've been trying to do this for a long time, maybe this will push me into actually getting on with it.
Why?
As a writing exercise. As a thought Exercise. To assemble a corpus of material so that when someone calls me an asshole, he can substantiate with page and line references.
* Posting silly shit I come up with or across and consider good enough to post.
Why?
Vanity, like any other blog. Because I'm a very silly person. Because I feel like inflicting random bursts of solid shit upon the ether, or with any luck, some underslept and masochistic soul.
* Communicating in some way with the people I've left back in Argentina. I've been living for almost a whole year in the UK, and I loathe both mail and messenger as a communication tools... ah, scratch that. I'm a fucking disaster keeping track of people.
There probably won't be a whole lot of personal information here, anyways, and I'll be sure to warn next time I do it.
Well, that's enough. On with it.
Why?
As a writing exercise. As a thought Exercise. To assemble a corpus of material so that when someone calls me an asshole, he can substantiate with page and line references.
* Posting silly shit I come up with or across and consider good enough to post.
Why?
Vanity, like any other blog. Because I'm a very silly person. Because I feel like inflicting random bursts of solid shit upon the ether, or with any luck, some underslept and masochistic soul.
* Communicating in some way with the people I've left back in Argentina. I've been living for almost a whole year in the UK, and I loathe both mail and messenger as a communication tools... ah, scratch that. I'm a fucking disaster keeping track of people.
There probably won't be a whole lot of personal information here, anyways, and I'll be sure to warn next time I do it.
Well, that's enough. On with it.
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