Thirteen years ago, a generation was taught when things get tough, just keep swimming. Now we learn of the origin of these sage words – yes, the truth is finally revealed about our favorite forgetful fish. Turns out she just kept swimming.
Dory’s search for her family lands her (joined by Marlin and Nemo) at California’s Marine Life Institute, home of a bunch of new merchandisable characters, namely a grumpy Pacific octopus (sorry, “septopus”) named Hank (voiced by Ed O’Neil). With the help of new and old friends, Dory finally finds the answers she’s always been looking for – at least, when she remembers.
Amidst the overbearing sentimentality is genuine fun and sweetness – though it’s hard not to see that Finding Dory and Toy Story 2 are pretty much the same movie. In fact, every Pixar film is just the hero’s journey, isn’t it? Well, whatever works, I suppose – it’s not like it’s a bad thing…it just gets a little underwhelming.
Despite what could be considered a hindrance, I think the mentioned sweetness pulls through on this one. I mean, sure I also mentioned it’s over-sentimental, but this quality is presented in a manner that is neither annoying nor pandering. It’s a lovely tale about family, friends, forgiveness, and of course, disability advocacy.
On that last note, I discovered that some audiences took umbrage with the treatment of some certain characters – namely a sea lion named Gerald.
I guess the thought is that though some of the characters were teased for their disabilities, they ultimately proved a greater point – namely Becky the loon – Gerald was a simpleton who was no more than the butt of some jokes. (And surprise surprise people were offended.◔_◔ I only learned about this when I was trying to find a picture of him.)
Personally, he unnerves me. And ultimately, my opinion is as follows: we don’t know Gerald. He could be a vicious baby killer or the sweetest sea critter since those cuddly otters. We also don’t know his relationship with Fluke and Rudder (the other sea lions). Heck, we hardly even know Fluke and Rudder. So what I guess I’m saying is please just calm the frack down.
In summation, Finding Dory is as charming and sentimental as one would expect, so if you’re a fan of Nemo you’ll probably really dig this as well – just be sure to stay after for some extra closure. Personally, I found the preceding short, Piper, to be much more charming – after all, less is more.
I am kicking myself for not seeing this movie sooner. As a self-proclaimed kitsch enthusiast, I’ve always been familiar with the works of Margaret Keane – I even knew that for a time that her husband, Walter, claimed to have painted some of her works. To learn the scope and impact of this pop art movement, however, was beyond my belief. I think that it is important that this story is told, and the execution of said story could not be more apt than through the lens of Tim Burton.
Big Eyes steps back from the spectacle and leans on solely on story through character; Amy Adams and Christoph Waltz play off of each other seamlessly. Adams’ portrayal of a tortured artist is empathetic and powerful.
When Waltz as Walter Keane starts twisting that knife, you feel it. Each turn makes you sick to your stomach, which makes Margaret’s victory all the more satisfying. And it’s not like he’s a villain from the get-go; you can see these people fall in love, and it makes you wonder if he was truly intending on using her from the beginning, or if inspiration struck and things snowballed from there. (Though, I’m thinking a combination for two.)
Even if you can’t stand her artwork, Big Eyes is an important film. This a story of a woman who struggles in a time where men were meant to be relied upon – a woman who lacks confidence, who is told to not even try because “people don’t like girl art” anyway. To see her rise and fall and finally stand up for her self, it just makes you feel good, you know?
Frankly, this is a story that needs to be seen – it’s just a shame that it received such little lift. Though the focused artwork of the film may be dated, the theme could not be more relevant today.
I’ve dabbled with World of Warcraft – I’m not an expert with the lore, or even half of the jargon – I just like making guys and exploring worlds, occasionally summoning demons to slay enemies. You know, casual stuff.
So when Duncan Jones comes along with a feature film, I get pretty excited: I’m a fan of his work (well, I only saw half of his feature films and that half left a great first impression), and a fan of the source material…until I realize this part of the story takes place well before anything I’m really familiar with, but I’m still up for the ride. So with this in mind, it’s super-hard for me to not have an ounce of bias, or at least understanding, but I really can’t wrap my head around this amount of backlash – well, not entirely anyway.
I’d like to start with the elephant in the room, Garona:
Now, Garona is a half-orc – whether she is known to be half-human or half-draenei at this point in the story is neither here nor there. This is what lady orcs look like in this movie:
Painting a lady green and giving her tusks an orc does not make. Even if she is a half-orc, those are some ridiculously strong “other” genes – especially when she looks like this in the game:
Frankly, even with all the suspension of disbelief within me, I was not convinced this woman was half-orc. Maybe a thicker brow or yellowed, more pronounced teeth would have helped convinced me – considering how great all the other creatures looked, comparatively she was kind of embarrassing (from a purely objective standpoint).
Garona aside, this was a pretty convincing world. I dug the creature effects, the fights, and the costuming was pretty spectacular. However, reflecting on the world-building, I can see how some things are lost in translation.
In some interviews, Jones has compared his adaptation (and it’s reception by some) to the Lord of the Rings films: this is a new world that not everyone will understand or appreciate. The trouble is, Azeroth isn’t black and white: there’s a massive cast of characters to consider, with all sorts of motivations.
So in this film when Glenn Close pops in to tell one of our heroes about the power of “the Light,” this isn’t a metaphor – this is a literal religion that is detrimental to certain factions. For this sort of thing not to be explained, this character’s big moment comes off as hella cheesy. It’s lack of insight like this that makes these characters come off as terribly shallow – though with such a broad cast, it’s hard to focus on personal development.
Regardless of these issues, I think an audience can get itself wrapped up in the world of Warcraft. It’s pure epic fantasy – so if you’re looking for a fun escape, go for it. But if you can’t handle some swords and sorcery, look elsewhere. Hopefully with a sequel we can get more in-depth with some of these folks. Hopefully.
How Fangirling Turns a Much Bigger Problem into a Petty Image Crisis
Disclaimer: Spousal abuse is not cool. I do not nor would I ever endorse or encourage it. I don’t really think I need to state these things, but sometimes I’m pretty facetious.
Obviously recent, disturbing, events have been on my mind, and I feel that this is the only real outlet for me to express my thoughts, so if you don’t care, whatever, no one’s making you click my links. But for anyone who knows me, it should be pretty clear that I’m a Johnny Depp fan (he’s the icon on my wordpress even) – I have been for over 10 years of my relatively short life. This obsession has ebbed over the years, but I still love seeing his movies (and yes, there are plenty of terrible ones). Either way, that’s a long time for an obsession over anything, let alone someone you’ve never met. Someone who doesn’t even know you exist, for that matter.
When I read that someone I admire and look up to would hurt someone they love, I was pretty upset. Granted, I’ve never really cared about his or any other celebrity’s personal life – I’m just in for the showbiz. (Kevin Spacey knows what’s up.) In fact, the only time I’ve cared was if filming was delayed or anything like that. But this is messed up. I really don’t want to restate the facts – you can find those trending somewhere.
So I’ve always been, or try to be, the type to separate art from creator, especially in the film world. Additionally, there are plenty of creatives whom I admire who I know have done less than favorable things in the past. I mean, it’s not something to be proud of, but oftentimes the art overshadows the person.
But to someone like me (and I know I can’t be alone here) who really hones in on artwork and the artist, where do we draw the line? It’s not something to think about often, because frankly, it’s not a nice thing to think about. Another thing to consider is that characters are far more connectable than the actor/actress, so it’s easier to draw inspiration and admiration from a performance – the obsession over a celebrity is more of a byproduct.
So I guess what it comes down to is if Mr Depp is ever prosecuted and convicted, will I stop seeing his movies? Honestly, it depends if the movie itself seems interesting, and that’s all there is to it. I just don’t want to be crucified for sporting merch. I’m also not going to tear down my posters or burn my dvds. I love movies. I love stories. I love characters. It’s an escape.
After being banished by the church, William (Ralph Ineson) and his family of Puritans are forced to begin a new life on the cusp of the unknown – in this case, a small plot of land by a spooky thicket of woods. After their newborn goes missing, the family slowly turns on eachother with the eldest, Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy), at the brunt of the misery.
Rather than focusing on romance and mysticism, this film relies on a slow-building dread and paranoia that is prevalent in New England folklore. Admittedly, I personally found it difficult to empathize with Thomasin’s plight – I mean, it’s the 1600’s and everything’s terrible (plus I don’t think they actually spoke like that). It’s amazing anyone survived, really – but I digress. However, this sort of thing this does not distract from the viewing experience.
The Witch is beautifully atmospheric; the isolation, terror and desperation is palpable, and the fact that the scares rely more on practical effects makes the feature all the more admirable.
No spoilers here, but I just wanted to note that I enjoyed the twist enough, but I feel that Caleb’s big scene really drove this film home.
Apologies for being so brief, but admittedly, it’s difficult to talk about a movie like this without major spoilers. I will say, if you dig older horror, this is right up your alley: no jumpscares or torture porn, just natural discomfort. Conversely, I felt a little “meh” by the end of it. I mean, I’m glad there wasn’t an anti-ending, but I think I wanted more of a bang.
Perhaps I’m just spoiled.
Holy guacamole. What. Did. I. Just. Watch.
Well, let me tell you – if you haven’t watched the latest season of American Horror Story, go away for now. I also wrote about the other seasons here. Meanwhile, I’ll be here jotting down my thoughts and musings on this last season.
Now, I find hotels as eerie as the next occasional traveler, so I thought the concept of AHS: Hotel was interesting on a very base level. Add some real-world creepy inspirations? Great! Old Hollywood? Even better! Vampires? Well…they hadn’t really tackled them yet, so okay…
I’ll be frank. This season’s a hot mess. It’s a Jackson Pollock of concepts and casting, marred with copious amounts of sex and bloodshed. Not all of it was terrible – for instance, we were given a new hero, Liz Taylor (Dennis O’Hare).
Liz is awesome. She’s an ideal role model for the modern audience – confident, intelligent, and fierce as hell. However, everything was fine until for some reason, they decided to throw in a completely asinine romance angle with the Countess’ (Gaga) flame, Tristan (Finn Wittrock).
Now, I’m not man-hating for the fun of it, but what I’m upset about is that this angle came from absolutely NOWHERE. The only time we get any idea that there was any sort of chemistry is after we see Liz and Tristan in bed together – no buildup, no conversation, not even any eye-contact, for all I know. I suppose the heart wants what the heart wants, I guess. I’m just glad she got the happy(ish) ending she deserved.
Another character I loved? James Patrick March.
Honestly I never gave Evan Peters a second glance until Hotel. Finally, after four seasons of moping, we get someone charismatic, cartoony, and impossible to ignore. Think of James P. March as Gomez Addams and H.H. Holmes on coke.
Hotel was an incredibly divisive season, an odd combination of cartoony and violent – in some cases cartoonishly violent. It seemed as if the creators didn’t know where to draw the line in terms of disturbing content – or which direction this show was going, for that matter. I think the idea was to bridge the gap with the “Ten Commandments” story…or maybe the vampires? Jeezus.
The Ten Commandments
Admittedly, this was a very cool, bold way to start the season. Granted, it is a total Se7en ripoff – that, and hearing the phrase “Ten Commandments” over and over again is clunky and exhausting.
And when we learn the truth about our protagonist, John (Wes Bentley), I’m not sure if it was more unexpected or annoying. Much like Liz/Tristan, we had no leads of any sort – it just seemed so poorly thrown together. On the other hand, when John accepted his identity, that was a nice change of pace.
There seems to be a string of shrugging off events when things get too weird – for instance, when we are introduced to Countess’ erm, child, it goes on a wacky’s “Baby’s Day Out”-style adventure. As if that wasn’t stupid/annoying enough, there is literally a scene where John’s daughter, Scarlett, is very upset and crying, and then less than a minute later we see her chilling on the couch with some popcorn. What kind of poorly written bullshit is going on here?
Okay okay, that’s a little nit-picky, especially considering some bigger problems…
The Addiction Demon and Hypodermic Sally
…Who was this? Why was this? What purpose does this serve? Other than disturbing for disturbing’s sake.
Speaking of which, it was never really explained why Sally (Sarah Paulson) was sewing folks into mattresses. It made a nice eyecatch I suppose, but again, ultimately pointless. Like that Human Centipede-esque nonsense later.
On the topic of nonsense, last but not least –
To be fair, they never really call these creatures “vampires” – but for the sake of simplicity, that’s what I’m going with. I honestly enjoyed how this season played with this vampirism disease, especially when combined with other diseases. Though they did hit us over the head with the-ever-so-topical vaccination “debate.”
Upon the announcement that Lady Gaga was to be involved with this season of AHS, I honestly didn’t really care – I guess I was more looking forward to the sheer spectacle she would surely provide – and thusly delivered. I was more annoyed by the irrelevance of her vampire clan and their terrible hair-dos.
The Countess represented the glamour as well as the menace that LA has to offer (throughout time, so it seems) – an ideal seductress. Apart from that, we have a concept that’s terribly drawn out and ultimately uninteresting.
In A Nutshell
I’m sorry, I took some time writing this because I often found myself getting ranty and all over the place. Kind of like this season. Simply put, there were way too many ideas going on here at once; near the end, it was painfully obvious that they needed to tie these stories up. Yet, despite my complaints, I still enjoyed this season. It doesn’t hold a candle to Murder House, but at least it’s better than Coven.
Well, the Oscar noms are out (well, have been for a bit – sorry I haven’t been around), and The Revenant has swept the charts. Admittedly, I’m not one to rush out and try to see all the nominated films before the big event, but regardless of the buzz, this was definitely on my list.
So, does DiCaprio scream, cry and drool enough for that Oscar?
A few things to get out of the way: yes, this is inspired by a book by the same title – I have not read this book, so I will pretend it does not exist. Likewise with the Richard Harris film also inspired by said book. No comparisons will be made, and there are no previous biases – even though I am a sucker for Iñárritu’s style. And Tom Hardy – but that’s besides the point.
The Revenant is a story of trapper Hugh Glass (DiCaprio), and an expedition that goes terribly, terribly wrong; after a brutal grizzly attack, Glass is left for dead after witnessing fellow trapper, John Fitzgerald (Hardy), murdering his son. Struck with grief and rage, Glass finds the will to survive the wilderness and seek his revengeance.
Survivalist stories are often meant to display the determination of man against the elements, often while displaying the internal journey of said man finding meaning and purpose set against the wild.
What makes The Revenant stand out is not only is one of the most ferociously realistic portrayals of wilderness, but thanks to the haunting use of sound and space, as a viewer you feel completely vulnerable. The Revenant is two-and-a-half hours of sheer brutality, as we witness a man struggle against every kind of conflict.
It’s not all gore and manly men. Well, okay, most of it is. However, betwixt the utter savagery, Iñárritu captures Glass’ internal journey beautifully.
What is also worth mentioning is despite Fitzgerald’s seemingly villainous actions, he’s not exactly a villain. In fact, there is really no black and white in terms of morality in this film (except for those Frenchmen), it’s just 1800s dog-eat-dog survivalism – constantly reminding you that nature is scary and does not care about your feelings.
In all, The Revenant is not an easy watch, but it is certainly unforgettable.
Final Grade: A
Chances are, you’ve seen this movie pop around your recommendations but totally ignored it way more than the other recommended films/shows, and I think I know why.
The poster’s shitty. Shitty and forgettable. Which is a dirty shame really, because The Suicide Theory has a really cool premise:
Percival (Leon Cain), frankly, wants to kill himself – but for some reason, he can’t. It’s not that he hasn’t tried, he just keeps on living all the time. So what’s a man to do? Hire someone to do it for you – this is where Steven (Steve Mouzakis) comes in. For Steven, what seems to be a done deal opens a whole new can of worms instead.
The Suicide Theory is kind of like if M. Night Shyamalan had made The Butterfly Effect, but with less time travel and angst. In Australia. With no budget. In fact, I just wanted to check my facts with the last statement I made there, and just learned that this film was funded by Indiegogo! No wonder their poster’s so pedantic. (Then again, there are great-looking promo materials on the Indiegogo page, so I’m not sure what’s going on with Netflix.)
I don’t want to reveal more about the plot, so let’s just get down to brass tacks.
To avoid repeating myself further down the page, I want to note that The Suicide Theory does a great job keeping your attention. The tone and pace was consistent, and personally I was pretty happy with the ending.
Sometimes the acting is pretty poor, but all things considered, it’s not even that bad. Well, they did go a little hard on the “fate” thing.
The Final Thought
Some say convoluted, I say charming; The Suicide Theory is pretty neat and wraps itself up nicely. It’s a story not only of fate, but also sheer cause and consequence. If you have 90 minutes, this is definitely worth a peek.
In the aftermath of a family tragedy, an aspiring author [(Mia Wasikowska)] is torn between love for her childhood friend and the temptation of a mysterious outsider. Trying to escape the ghosts of her past, she is swept away to a house that breathes, bleeds – and remembers.
I know, it’s lame that I stole the synopsis from IMDB on this one, but frankly, I can’t write anything as accurately flowery at the moment. I say “accurately flowery” because well, this movie is surface-level gorgeous. It’s like Mary Shelley threw up on Charles Dickens, all for Guillermo del Toro to film through a goth-technicolor filter – complete with glitter and ooze.
Unfortunately, style and substance tend to be two different animals, and sacrifices must be made.
What’s lost on us is any trace of subtlety, as best portrayed with Jessica Chastain as Lucille Sharpe. We first see her at this resplendent gathering of socialites, decked in (what can be assumed to be) era-appropriate pinks and beige, but at the piano sits Lucille, draped in deep scarlet like a braggart countess practically begging for your undivided attention.
Granted, there’s supposed to be some culture shock between London and New York (not to mention her family’s supposed history of resplendent wealth) – but this sort of juxtaposition is terribly melodramatic.
Lucille’s jarring characterization doesn’t stop there; there seems to be no middle-ground with her – she’s either a stoic ice maiden or completely bonkers. What’s even more frustrating is that we know that Chastain is more than capable than adding some subtlety to a character – perhaps she’s not bad, but just written that way?
I don’t mean to harp on Chastain too much, as Lucille Sharpe isn’t the only problem. Though the film is beautifully atmospheric, it’s hard to call this film a horror. Sure, what Edith (Wasikowska) goes through is rightly terrible, but the over-romanticism of the plot creates a cultural disconnect of sorts – resulting in a Mary Sue who can see ghosts, just because.
In all, Crimson Peak plays like an old radio drama: atmospherically eerie as it is charming, but sadly predictable as all hell.
Final Grade: C+