Review-a-palooza
Jul. 8th, 2014 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tealinI'm overdue for a photo post, but I'm intimidated by the number of photos to be gone through, so here is something even more overdue:
TEALIN'S CAPSULE REVIEWS FOR EVERY FILM* SINCE ... I DUNNO, WINTERISH.
I am structuring these reviews in a simple, succinct, and highly personal way, giving a simple overview then describing a)my favourite bit and b)something that bothered me. It seems as good a formula as any other, and also results in mostly non-spoilery reviews, so ... let's go!
Cap 2: Buckaroo
I enjoy a Marvel movie as much as the next person, but not as much as certain sisters I could name, who booked this viewing a few days after seeing it on her own and was very, very excited about it. It was fun in that I felt a little bit like I was playing hooky to see it, as I left work while the sky was still light and was going to be coming in late the next day. Sadly this ended up being the most fun aspect of the movie – it was dramatic, and it wasn't bad, it just wasn't particularly fun. Thor and Avengers had that heady mix of fun and drama but the franchise seems to have gone for unadulterated seriousface, very much in line with top-rate TV these days. It might have been worth it if the emotional weight had been there (though I have differing Opinions on this) but I found I didn't have a gut reaction to anything. You might argue this is because I knew the twist going in, but I knew the twist before I saw Sixth Sense and still found it engaging. I'm not going to feel things for characters just because I'm told I should, it has to be grown in me organically, and I don't think there was much attention paid to that delicate process in this film.
My favourite bit:
The underground bunker with the reel-to-reel tape extravaganza. That was SO COOL. What a great idea, both conceptually and visually. Well done, guys – whether it was in the original comics or an invention of the production designer, you get a big thumbs-up from me.
What bothered me:
OK, so Our Intrepid Heroes arrive at the disused military bunker. They go in. They joke about there being a secret elevator. They take the secret elevator. There is a long, visually powerful shot of the secret elevator going down, down, down. Basically, the filmmakers have gone out of their way to make sure you are absolutely clear on the fact that they are way deep underground. The reel-to-reel scene plays out, then it's announced missile strikes have been called on the bunker. Well, that's okay, you might think; bunkers way deep underground are all about surviving missile strikes. But no! Missiles strike, the place falls down around Our Intrepid Heroes' ears, leaving them . . . wait, surrounded by rubble on ground level? What?? Is this a disastrous continuity error the entire crew failed to catch? Was the whole deep underground bit supposed to be a dream? It took me right out of the movie and I found it very hard to suspend disbelief afterward.
Wes Anderson's European Fling
Now, this one was fun. This was probably the most fun I've had at a movie for some time. It was imaginative, confident, playful, and a little surreal, with comedy and drama in proportion to set each other off nicely. The heavily stylised storybook conceit contrasted wonderfully with the darker undercurrents; one wouldn't have worked so well without the other. People complain about Wes Anderson being too self-consciously quirky, and in the case of The Fantastic Mr Fox I did feel his quirkiness was getting in the way of the story, but I cannot agree with the naysayers because you know what? At least he is trying. It's so much more refreshing to watch a film with a real personality than another anonymous wanna-be-blockbuster. And you could tell the people involved were genuinely enjoying themselves, which raises anything by several notches, and tells you something about the calibre of the leadership. I spent the whole film mildly delighted, and wishing the stars had aligned in such a way that Wes Anderson could have done the Snicket movie.
My favourite bit:
It's hard to narrow it down, but the specific part I think I most enjoyed was actually a series of recurring bits, taken as a group: when the train gets stopped at the border. The rhyme is powerful, the variations on it more dramatic for the symmetry, the shift in tone, the revelation of character, just so good. It was a perfect way to present us with tonal and contextual milestones along the path of the narrative, as well.
What bothered me::
The solicitor(?) has a cat. This cat goes with him everywhere. At some point (MINOR SPOILER!) the cat dies. And yet, the solicitor is only mildly dismayed by this, and eventually disposes of the cat's carcass in a public wastebin. For a film that had many other examples of genuine emotion in an otherwise cartoony context, this moment rang completely false and undermined him as a believable character. You don't even have to know a real cat person to know how cut up someone would be when their constant companion is taken away – even if they were good at hiding their emotions they wouldn't carry the bag like it only held a wet jacket, and would never just chuck it in a bin.
X-Men 2: Time Warp Kazoo
Maybe the reason I'm finding so many movies unsatisfying lately is because I tend to catch only shows after 9pm and don't have the capacity to enjoy them. But ... no, I am usually more emotionally receptive when I'm tired, so ... they're just unsatisfying, I'm afraid.
My favourite bit:
The quasi-music-video with the super fast guy nonchalantly manipulating the room of baddies to incite total chaos, allowing Our Intrepid Heroes to make their escape. Top-notch, would watch again. That was fun. Take notes.
What bothered me:
So Magneto and Xavier are both ... well, both have English accents; I seem to recall Magneto came from somewhere in Europe that fell to the Nazis, but presumably ended up in Blighty young enough to come away sounding like he'd been raised by RADA. And yet, according to these prequel films, they seem to have come to the US in early adulthood (or teens?) and yet not lost any of their accent. Also, if these foreign nationals are causing such trouble on American soil, why not deport them? Isn't that what happens normally? Or is this supposed to be a sort of proto-Guantanamo 'they're safer where we can keep an eye on them' deal?
Dragon 2: Loop-de-loo
The first How to Train Your Dragon was a very painful kick in my pants when it came out. I was about to start working on Winnie the Pooh, which was 2D feature animation, but didn't have much to look forward to in terms of dramatic depth. Here was a film with loads of it, as well as exactly the sort of observation-heavy, character-specific, naturalistic animation I'd always wanted to do, and on my current track would never get the chance to get good at. As much as it was a joy to watch, it hurt as well, which perversely contributed to the emotional impact and beauty of the film.
I don't know how much my perception of Dragon 2 is skewed by my change in circumstances. I'd just finished working on something with a lot more artistic integrity, had left Disney, and the States, and was looking forward to a major, positive change. Instead of the film blindsiding me from nowhere, I've been hearing Dreamworks people sing the praises of Dragon 2 for years, frequently hearing it was better than the first one. So the film being something of a disappointment could be a result of circumstance, but I think there was enough objectively unsatisfying about it to justify the impression. There were so many things which by all rights should have been deeply affecting, but just slid right off me; I left feeling mildly entertained but somehow cheated.
My favourite bit:
I honestly can't recall a sequence where I was thinking 'I really like this!' but my neurons did go all a-tingle at the introduction of the mysterious dragon shaman, with that brilliantly otherworldly mask and costume. I'm glad they kept the mystery going for a while, as well, instead of just rushing to the punch. And the seemingly permanent frozen ice-sprays were pretty impressive too.
What bothered me, specifically:
There is a major character death in this film. That is not what bothered me. I am a Shakespeare fan, after all. What bothered me was twofold:
1. The means of death was such that, going by exposition from the first film, it should have left practically nothing of the corpse. I realise they have a certain rating to maintain, but ... either find a discreet way to shoot it or kill them off another way that doesn't take the teeth out of your world.
2. The survivors were melancholy, but didn't act as though a really important part of their lives had just been yanked away from them in a horrible way. There was sadness, but not grief. Again, undermining the emotional veracity of the fiction we're expected to believe in. If you don't want to invest in the emotion warranted by killing of a major character ... don't kill the character. In other words, if you're afraid of intensity, make Winnie the Pooh.
What bothered me, technically:
Something I noticed and particularly adored about the first Dragon was how much attention was paid to the animation. Every character had a different way of moving, and each of the dragon species drew upon a certain animal's characteristics: there was a parrot dragon, a bulldog dragon, a lizard dragon, and Toothless was such a well-observed feline that several cat-owners of my acquaintance professed he was not just a cat, he was their cat. It's all kind of turned to mush in this version: Toothless is now a dog, sort of; the rest of the dragons just move like [handwave] dragons; the humans aren't set apart much aside from what their varying physiques necessitate; all in all there is just so much motion in general you don't know what to look at or what it's trying to tell you. If the first one hadn't been so excellent in these regards, this wouldn't have stood out so much, but it had a lot to live up to and just didn't.
What bothered me, conceptually:
I understand the whole 'Try to understand your enemy and you might no longer be enemies' trope is a bit hackneyed by now, but ... there was something unsettling about the film going the polar opposite, telling us some people just need to be smashed. I understand that's a pretty dominant theme in the geopolitical world right now, but I'm pretty sure the message is growing out of the contemporary American internal zeitgeist as much as an awareness of international events. Forget trying to talk to people on the other side of an argument because they are unreasonable and will not be moved; all you can do is dig in, shore up your walls, and give them everything you've got with both barrels. Because that's how we move forward, apparently. I've got a hundred-year-old famously entrenched war which begs to differ.
*Okay, not every film that came out, just the ones I managed to see while up to my eyeballs in work. Special mention must be given to The Lego Movie and The Wind Rises which I would have loved to have seen in the theatre, but fate did not allow, alas.
TEALIN'S CAPSULE REVIEWS FOR EVERY FILM* SINCE ... I DUNNO, WINTERISH.
I am structuring these reviews in a simple, succinct, and highly personal way, giving a simple overview then describing a)my favourite bit and b)something that bothered me. It seems as good a formula as any other, and also results in mostly non-spoilery reviews, so ... let's go!
Cap 2: Buckaroo
I enjoy a Marvel movie as much as the next person, but not as much as certain sisters I could name, who booked this viewing a few days after seeing it on her own and was very, very excited about it. It was fun in that I felt a little bit like I was playing hooky to see it, as I left work while the sky was still light and was going to be coming in late the next day. Sadly this ended up being the most fun aspect of the movie – it was dramatic, and it wasn't bad, it just wasn't particularly fun. Thor and Avengers had that heady mix of fun and drama but the franchise seems to have gone for unadulterated seriousface, very much in line with top-rate TV these days. It might have been worth it if the emotional weight had been there (though I have differing Opinions on this) but I found I didn't have a gut reaction to anything. You might argue this is because I knew the twist going in, but I knew the twist before I saw Sixth Sense and still found it engaging. I'm not going to feel things for characters just because I'm told I should, it has to be grown in me organically, and I don't think there was much attention paid to that delicate process in this film.
My favourite bit:
The underground bunker with the reel-to-reel tape extravaganza. That was SO COOL. What a great idea, both conceptually and visually. Well done, guys – whether it was in the original comics or an invention of the production designer, you get a big thumbs-up from me.
What bothered me:
OK, so Our Intrepid Heroes arrive at the disused military bunker. They go in. They joke about there being a secret elevator. They take the secret elevator. There is a long, visually powerful shot of the secret elevator going down, down, down. Basically, the filmmakers have gone out of their way to make sure you are absolutely clear on the fact that they are way deep underground. The reel-to-reel scene plays out, then it's announced missile strikes have been called on the bunker. Well, that's okay, you might think; bunkers way deep underground are all about surviving missile strikes. But no! Missiles strike, the place falls down around Our Intrepid Heroes' ears, leaving them . . . wait, surrounded by rubble on ground level? What?? Is this a disastrous continuity error the entire crew failed to catch? Was the whole deep underground bit supposed to be a dream? It took me right out of the movie and I found it very hard to suspend disbelief afterward.
Wes Anderson's European Fling
Now, this one was fun. This was probably the most fun I've had at a movie for some time. It was imaginative, confident, playful, and a little surreal, with comedy and drama in proportion to set each other off nicely. The heavily stylised storybook conceit contrasted wonderfully with the darker undercurrents; one wouldn't have worked so well without the other. People complain about Wes Anderson being too self-consciously quirky, and in the case of The Fantastic Mr Fox I did feel his quirkiness was getting in the way of the story, but I cannot agree with the naysayers because you know what? At least he is trying. It's so much more refreshing to watch a film with a real personality than another anonymous wanna-be-blockbuster. And you could tell the people involved were genuinely enjoying themselves, which raises anything by several notches, and tells you something about the calibre of the leadership. I spent the whole film mildly delighted, and wishing the stars had aligned in such a way that Wes Anderson could have done the Snicket movie.
My favourite bit:
It's hard to narrow it down, but the specific part I think I most enjoyed was actually a series of recurring bits, taken as a group: when the train gets stopped at the border. The rhyme is powerful, the variations on it more dramatic for the symmetry, the shift in tone, the revelation of character, just so good. It was a perfect way to present us with tonal and contextual milestones along the path of the narrative, as well.
What bothered me::
The solicitor(?) has a cat. This cat goes with him everywhere. At some point (MINOR SPOILER!) the cat dies. And yet, the solicitor is only mildly dismayed by this, and eventually disposes of the cat's carcass in a public wastebin. For a film that had many other examples of genuine emotion in an otherwise cartoony context, this moment rang completely false and undermined him as a believable character. You don't even have to know a real cat person to know how cut up someone would be when their constant companion is taken away – even if they were good at hiding their emotions they wouldn't carry the bag like it only held a wet jacket, and would never just chuck it in a bin.
X-Men 2: Time Warp Kazoo
Maybe the reason I'm finding so many movies unsatisfying lately is because I tend to catch only shows after 9pm and don't have the capacity to enjoy them. But ... no, I am usually more emotionally receptive when I'm tired, so ... they're just unsatisfying, I'm afraid.
My favourite bit:
The quasi-music-video with the super fast guy nonchalantly manipulating the room of baddies to incite total chaos, allowing Our Intrepid Heroes to make their escape. Top-notch, would watch again. That was fun. Take notes.
What bothered me:
So Magneto and Xavier are both ... well, both have English accents; I seem to recall Magneto came from somewhere in Europe that fell to the Nazis, but presumably ended up in Blighty young enough to come away sounding like he'd been raised by RADA. And yet, according to these prequel films, they seem to have come to the US in early adulthood (or teens?) and yet not lost any of their accent. Also, if these foreign nationals are causing such trouble on American soil, why not deport them? Isn't that what happens normally? Or is this supposed to be a sort of proto-Guantanamo 'they're safer where we can keep an eye on them' deal?
Dragon 2: Loop-de-loo
The first How to Train Your Dragon was a very painful kick in my pants when it came out. I was about to start working on Winnie the Pooh, which was 2D feature animation, but didn't have much to look forward to in terms of dramatic depth. Here was a film with loads of it, as well as exactly the sort of observation-heavy, character-specific, naturalistic animation I'd always wanted to do, and on my current track would never get the chance to get good at. As much as it was a joy to watch, it hurt as well, which perversely contributed to the emotional impact and beauty of the film.
I don't know how much my perception of Dragon 2 is skewed by my change in circumstances. I'd just finished working on something with a lot more artistic integrity, had left Disney, and the States, and was looking forward to a major, positive change. Instead of the film blindsiding me from nowhere, I've been hearing Dreamworks people sing the praises of Dragon 2 for years, frequently hearing it was better than the first one. So the film being something of a disappointment could be a result of circumstance, but I think there was enough objectively unsatisfying about it to justify the impression. There were so many things which by all rights should have been deeply affecting, but just slid right off me; I left feeling mildly entertained but somehow cheated.
My favourite bit:
I honestly can't recall a sequence where I was thinking 'I really like this!' but my neurons did go all a-tingle at the introduction of the mysterious dragon shaman, with that brilliantly otherworldly mask and costume. I'm glad they kept the mystery going for a while, as well, instead of just rushing to the punch. And the seemingly permanent frozen ice-sprays were pretty impressive too.
What bothered me, specifically:
There is a major character death in this film. That is not what bothered me. I am a Shakespeare fan, after all. What bothered me was twofold:
1. The means of death was such that, going by exposition from the first film, it should have left practically nothing of the corpse. I realise they have a certain rating to maintain, but ... either find a discreet way to shoot it or kill them off another way that doesn't take the teeth out of your world.
2. The survivors were melancholy, but didn't act as though a really important part of their lives had just been yanked away from them in a horrible way. There was sadness, but not grief. Again, undermining the emotional veracity of the fiction we're expected to believe in. If you don't want to invest in the emotion warranted by killing of a major character ... don't kill the character. In other words, if you're afraid of intensity, make Winnie the Pooh.
What bothered me, technically:
Something I noticed and particularly adored about the first Dragon was how much attention was paid to the animation. Every character had a different way of moving, and each of the dragon species drew upon a certain animal's characteristics: there was a parrot dragon, a bulldog dragon, a lizard dragon, and Toothless was such a well-observed feline that several cat-owners of my acquaintance professed he was not just a cat, he was their cat. It's all kind of turned to mush in this version: Toothless is now a dog, sort of; the rest of the dragons just move like [handwave] dragons; the humans aren't set apart much aside from what their varying physiques necessitate; all in all there is just so much motion in general you don't know what to look at or what it's trying to tell you. If the first one hadn't been so excellent in these regards, this wouldn't have stood out so much, but it had a lot to live up to and just didn't.
What bothered me, conceptually:
I understand the whole 'Try to understand your enemy and you might no longer be enemies' trope is a bit hackneyed by now, but ... there was something unsettling about the film going the polar opposite, telling us some people just need to be smashed. I understand that's a pretty dominant theme in the geopolitical world right now, but I'm pretty sure the message is growing out of the contemporary American internal zeitgeist as much as an awareness of international events. Forget trying to talk to people on the other side of an argument because they are unreasonable and will not be moved; all you can do is dig in, shore up your walls, and give them everything you've got with both barrels. Because that's how we move forward, apparently. I've got a hundred-year-old famously entrenched war which begs to differ.
*Okay, not every film that came out, just the ones I managed to see while up to my eyeballs in work. Special mention must be given to The Lego Movie and The Wind Rises which I would have loved to have seen in the theatre, but fate did not allow, alas.
