8 posts tagged “thumbs up”
Hey, how about a return of the Bullets of Laziness?
- Actually funny
- I loved the warm lighting throughout the movie
- As an armchair design nerd, the opening title cards were bordering on obscene in their prettiness
- Full of Hey! It's That Guy!s
- It sorta broke my brain momentarily when I looked at the cast page on IMDB and discovered that Nick Naylor and George in Erin Brockovitch are the same actor - what can I say, I'm unobservant sometimes
- Speaking of Nick: he was certainly charming but if I knew someone like him in real life, I would probably punch him in the face every time I saw him
- I was hoping the kid playing Joey was being directed to act that stiffly, but then I realized that he was the kid with the boner for TV on the Radio in the season premiere of The 4400. He's actually just a really crappy actor
- Rob Lowe and Adam Brody totally stole every scene they were in
- Katie Holmes's character was awesome and her arc was completely satisfying, but holy moly, she was completely the wrong person for the role. This has nothing to do with her marrying Tom Cruise and everything to do with her just being too sweet and bland for the kind of person (I assume) Heather was supposed to be
Anyway, what I remember in bullets:
- The visuals were absolutely stunning
- But man were there some creepy-looking dudes. That thing with the eyes on its hands in the commercials and trailers is exponentially more unsettling in the movie
- Ofelia? Adorable.
- Capitán Vidal was a heinous douche
- I loved that it was three different movies in one - part war movie, part loss of innocence story, part fairy tale - and that none of these stories suffered at the expense of the other
- The whole thing felt like something Jim Henson might have made if he took a crazy acid trip - only a good thing in my eyes
- Loved the end being ambiguous
The thing I can't get past is that these are CHILDREN. Kids look to adults for guidance and approval, and a lot of them don't have the ability when they're young to think critically and question the world around them. To see these little kids - one only 9 years old - happily declare that they are excited to be warriors in "God's Army" and that they're not afraid to die because of indoctrination fed to them by a zealot? That is fucked up, full stop. That wasn't even the youngest child there at the camp.
It honestly terrifies me that Becky Fischer, the Evangelical most prominent in the film, actively seeks out children and cites them as being "useful tools" in this crusade she has going on in her head against people who follow Islam. It's horrible that certain sects of Islam are teaching their children how to become suicide bombers, nobody will argue that. But that does not make it appropriate (or sane) for you to convince little kids you have scared half to death to "lay down their lives for the Gospel" to somehow show Islam that you're morally superior. And then to wrap all of this hate and ignorance up in the name of Jesus Christ? I'm not even a Christian and I find that offensive on every level possible.
I realize that the "blame" (can you blame somebody for teaching their child their own beliefs?) ultimately lies with their parents for hooking these kids up with people like Fischer. I understand that a lot of people want to raise their children to share their beliefs. It's just so sad and disturbing to me that these people are so wound up and paranoid that they think this brand of faith - where propaganda and a distinct hive-mind mentality rule - is okay, even lauded. The vast majority of humanity has progressed so that people of all faiths can live together in relative harmony. Why are they so hell-bent on dragging us back into the Dark Ages?
- Much funnier than I expected
- I was a bit surprised by how...tolerant, I guess, the people at the Southern dinner party were
- I thought it was pretty funny that the one feminist that seemed to catch on to the Borat gimmick was the elderly lady - a lot of the time older people are kind of uppity and don't like being "duped" (e.g.: the rodeo guy)
- There is not enough alcohol in the world to erase some of this movie from my brain, and I really wish there was (though oddly enough it was much less horrifying than Kids)
- Alan Keyes's appearance was really unexpected and made 5000% funnier in light of all the nonsense he spouted when he ran for Congress here in 2004
- I am amazed that Sacha Baron Cohen was able to stay in character the whole time
- The biting social commentary is ultimately worth all of the horrifingly awkward and cringeworthy moments. The church and fratboy scenes were scary, no doubt. But I thought the most important scene in the entire movie was the rodeo one. The fact that his ridiculous statements had to go as far as implying nuclear holocaust before he got any kind of reaction besides approval was very telling of the mindset of a small but very powerful segment of the population.
- The funniest scene for me was actually a deleted scene. Borat telling the doctor about his retarded brother's lobotomy really hit my comedy funny bone. I think it might have had something to do with the completely random inclusion of a woman's tooth in the procedure.
I have babbled on and on in here about being a fangirl of dystopia. You all know of my girlboner for it. And admittedly, that was my main interest in the film going into it. Children of Men is so much more than just a really depressing story or exercise in depression though - it's ultimately the visual world that Cuarón created that makes this such a brilliant and affecting movie.
My brother and I were recently talking about ARGs (specifically Year Zero) and how engrossing they can be. We mainly discussed how the good ones succeed because of how they are presented. The best ARGs are supposed to blur the line of reality and make you wonder - if only momentarily - if what you're viewing is real or part of a story. A really good ARG is the best way I can describe Children of Men. Even though it's a movie and you can't participate in its story (outside of the passive way that you watch a movie), I have never seen something obscure the line of reality and fiction so well before.
Usually in movies set in the future, be they dystopian or not, you tend to see a Jetsons-like (Jetsonian?) world - flying cars, jet packs, laser guns...you know what I'm talking about. It's so artificial that you can never fully get lost in it. In Children of Men, Cuarón's 2027 looks like 2007, except a lot more worse for the wear. The people in this world still get to their jobs in busses and cars, they still get their morning coffee from a ridiculously overpriced coffee shop; but in this world, these people are also dealing with the crushing reality that humans are a species going extinct while also trying to cling to life in a civilization spiraling into nihilism. It's heavy stuff. You mix in a matter-of-fact, almost flippant view of violence and a cinematography style more like that of a war correspondent than a major motion picture, and you've got yourself an experience that's really fucking hard to separate yourself from for the duration. Intense is almost putting it mildly.
Strangely enough, there's actually a fair bit of humor, and hell, hope, to be had to balance the soul-crushing despair. At its heart the story is one of hope. And amazingly, despite this not being a happy movie (or even an enjoyable one - I mean, it was excellent but you don't come away from it thinking you had a fun time), it definitely succeeds in being ultimately hopeful. I can't say that I've seen anything quite like it.
Pride and Prejudice was an odd book for me. I'd never read it before now, mostly because I'm not all that into romance, but also because my English and Literature teacher in my junior year of high school ruined me on classics for a long, long time. A month-long study of Benjamin Franklin's diary entries about his gout will do that to a person. But I realized that I'm missing out on a lot of good stories, so I got over it and picked P&P as my first book to get back on the horse. That's not what made the experience strange to me, though. It's that I didn't care for the story but I really liked the book anyway. Figure that one out.
I think part of my dislike for the story is that I'm just not into romantic comedy. It's always so Mad Libs, for lack of a better description. When I read or watch a romantic comedy, I've never felt like I was experiencing anything new - even when it was my first time with the genre. It's kind of like the White Album by The Beatles - it's been talked about and rehashed so much that even if it's your first time hearing it, you feel like you've heard it before. That's not to say that I'm ignorant to the fact that Pride and Prejudice was one of the first romantic comedies, and probably the most popular one of all time. Actually, that's probably why I both liked and disliked it. I liked it because it's the original source of all the gooey fluff forced onto the world (and therefore the best for obvious reasons), but irritating because of the metric ton of shit that has been derived from it. I would even go so far as to say the lion's share of romantic comedies are just Pride and Prejudice in a different outfit. Why try improving the genre when it was done so well out the gate?
Enough whining! I want to talk about the characters, which were a big part of why I ultimately enjoyed the book so much. The Bennets are obviously all kickass in their own way, with Lydia as my favorite. I'm a sucker for high drama and the ruckus she caused was pure gold. I also enjoyed the interplay between Mr.and Mrs. Bennet. It reminded me a lot of the stereotypical husband and wife interplay in 1950s sitcoms (you can almost envision Mr. Bennet breaking the fourth wall and shrugging at us with an, "oh, that Mrs. Bennet! Teehee!" expression on his face in the opening scene of the novel), something that both surprised and delighted me (though I doubt I should be enjoying a loveless marriage so much). I'm actually not all that enamored with Elizabeth or Mr. Darcy, but I think that's more a dislike of the plot tarnishing them than not liking the characters themselves. I liked both of them a lot for the first two-thirds (do I even need to discuss Elizabeth's fabulous sass and how she and Darcy flirted?), but when she went to Pemberley and became more concerned with materialism than she had ever displayed at any point in the story before, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. My annoyance with Elizabeth evened out once she sassed Lady Catherine back to Rosings, but I can't help but still be completely over Mr. Darcy. Nobody can go from sarcastic ass to cuddly warm fuzzies that quickly and not be crazy or a fake. Sure, his change was explained convincingly enough, but I can't help but feel like it was more than a little deus ex in order to not make it look like Elizabeth had lost her damn mind.
I think I might get more out of it if I read it a second or third time (which I wouldn't be against despite my earlier whining). I was a little surprised with how engaging it was the first time through and happy that I "got" so much of it. That's probably a retarded thing to say - a writer from any era can be a pretentious windbag, most definitely, but reading things from previous centuries can be daunting. And why I was afraid of classics after reading about Ben Franklin's medical woes. So I'm glad Austen was an engaging writer - she helped me get over my hangups and make me look forward to reading more challenging material in the future.
I think part of the allure is I feel like there's some point he's trying to make, but I just haven't figured out how his fucked up head works yet so until I do, his movies are going to leave me confused. That if I see enough of his work suddenly something will finally click and everything will be revealed. Part of me is concerned that he's being weird just to be weird and that I'm being conned into thinking that there's brilliance beneath the surface. I'm cynical. But so many people love him, so there has to be something deeper there, right?
That said, Blue Velvet was surprisingly straightforward as far as plot is concerned. You have to keep in mind that the other movie of Lynch's that I've seen is Mulholland Dr., so I wasn't really expecting things to make sense. That's not to say that there was't a plethora of WTF moments, like everything that came out of Frank's mouth and, basically, every scene Frank was involved in. There are many parts of the movie that still make little sense to me, but I was able to follow the main plot easily. Huzzah for me!
What sort of annoyed me though is we're never told why Frank does these things to Dorothy or why he's involved with the man in the yellow jacket. Mysteries are fun, but if there's no explanation as to why a character has done X, Y or Z, then it's ultimately a waste of time. I've read that the original edit was four (!) hours long, so perhaps some of the exposition I want was left on the cutting room floor. I can't help but wonder if more of the cuts could have been left in the story if the scenes - dialog in particular - were tighter editing-wise (who talks like that in real life?!), but that's neither here nor there, as it seems to be a quirk in Lynch's style of directing.
I can't say I enjoyed Blue Velvet, but I didn't actively hate it while I watched it, either (I'm looking at you, Kids!).
Honestly, I was bracing myself for disappointment. How often are "hilarious" movies that everyone raves about truly hilarious? Add "quirky" and "indie" to the mix and you've got a recipe for disaster.
I was not expecting the visceral reaction I had to this film. I loved it to pieces.
I guess what spoke to me the most was how real the movie, and the characters in particular, felt. Of course, the premise (dysfunctional family goes on road trip) is nothing new and the characters were all over the top in one way or another (Grandpa and Dwayne being the most notable examples), but it just doesn't feel cliche when you're watching it. That, to me, is the mark of a well-made movie. Everything about Little Miss Sunshine is pitch perfect: writing, editing, casting, cinematography, the music, the performances (Steve Carell being the stand out, believe it or not) - all completely on the mark.
I'm out of practice when it comes to reviewing, so I'm going to end this soon before I start babbling incoherently. One thing that I want to touch on though is what really drew me into the movie. It wasn't the humor (and yes, it WAS funny). It was the moments where these crazies were a real, actual family. The sweet little things - how Dwayne's a moody angst machine and "hates everyone" but loves Olive despite himself; how Frank is as much a part of the family by movie's end as anyone else in the car; how, despite being a total asshole to Olive the whole movie, Richard was horrified at what was happening at the pageant and thus to his little girl. Those are the kinds of things that made this movie such a treat.
Watch and tell me what you think!
