Beauty and the Beast (2017)

I thought it was good. I had thought Emma Watson would be a bad match for the movie, because it's all about magic and she looks sort of like a naturalist, and she probably is one because she's intelligent and went to college and got a degree. But she really did fit the part well, and at points I could even see the magic in her eyes, which is rare/sublime. I also found out that she's been in love with Beauty and the Beast since she was like 6, and her heart was bursting on the ceiling when she found out she was going to be doing this movie, which means it's not at all like she just did it because of the prestige and the pay, etc. while not really resonating with it.

I also thought the graphics were nice and stunning, especially the clock and the candlestick, thought the CGI for the beast sort of looked like CGI, like all living beings made with CGI do. It's a shame they didn't do it with makeup like I've heard the director actually wanted to.

I also liked that they changed a couple of things in the movie from the first one that surprisingly actually made it better rather than worse, such as making the reason Belle takes her father's place in prison be that the whole reason he was in there was that he was getting the rose that she had asked for, and also supposedly there were lyrics that were added to the song "Gaston" that were originally written for it but didn't make it into the 1991 film and are more mature-themed.

Oh, and the acting was pretty good in general—Gaston's, Belle's, her father's, everybody's. It's especially impressive that Gaston's acting was good since he's also good-looking in a way that fits the part.

One notable thing was that I had "a moment" when the movie showed Lumiere's (the candlestick's) life slipping away from him as he gradually turned back into an inanimate object after the last petal of Beast's enchanted rose fell, but only for a moment, as soon after he was revived as a human being (his original form before the castle became enchanted). This turn of events really put me in "the zone" of understanding life and death in the universe and how, albeit tragic, death is a relative thing, and one will always find themselves back in the context of life somewhere in the world at some time... again and again.

Groundhog Day

This is one of my all-time favorite movies and has been for over thirty years. Besides being funny and a good love story and a story of personal transformation, I love any story where people loop through the same time period over and over—especially when they're able to prove it to others by predicting events. I also happen to be a big fan of Bill Murray.

Other stories involving such time loops that know of are...

• Run Lola Run
• Edge of Tomorrow (aka Live Die Repeat)
• Russian Doll
• Omni Loop

The chemistry between Bill Murray's character (Phil) and Andie MacDowell's character (Rita) is pretty good. They both played their parts very well, and Phil's intelligent self-loathing and cynicism complements Rita's easy-goingness, cheerfulness and personability. The film also set it up well where Phil first sees Rita and you can tell she made an impression on him, but it's subtle and he doesn't really reveal it until later in the film.

I especially liked Bill Murray's acting regarding Phil's bewilderment the first time his day repeated, his love affair with Rita, and his general malaise with his job and life—it was subtle but just barely perceptible before it was made obvious how much he actually hated everything. And I thought the actors in this movie in general were good at portraying everyday realistic people.

One particular touch I liked was when Rita said she felt déjà vu, like she'd experienced the same thing before, even though Phil was the one who was actually experiencing the time loop. This is a nice touch because it has subtle philosophical/metaphysical implications that aren't further explored or resolved in any pat way; it's left open-ended.

I also just realized a deep metaphor in the movie as I was writing this. Phil's name is the same name as that of the groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, who predicts six more weeks of winter if he sees his own shadow when he's pulled out of a box. A couple of people even teased Phil about this in the movie. This is profound because the whole movie could be said to be about Phil going through the same bleak winter day until he works through and resolves his own "shadow self," to use a Jungian term.

I laughed out loud several times during this film, which is rare for me when watching a comedy. Most comedies aren't very funny to me; even my three favorite adult sitcom cartoons I rarely laugh at. 

I also related to Phil's womanizing tendencies (my only fictional hero is Don Giovanni) and liked how he was so successful with women as well as being extremely self-promoting in that respect. Phil was reminiscent of Bill Murray's character in Ghostbusters (another one of my all-time favorite movies) in that sense.

One minor oversight maybe worth mentioning is that Phil never bothered to see what would happen if he stayed up all night until 6:00 AM (the time when he'd wake up and start the same day over again) instead of going to sleep. Of course anybody in his position would do that!

So, overall, this is a great movie. The only caveat is that it's a bit dated and some people may not like old movies. I don't usually, but this movie doesn't seem to suffer from the cheesiness or overall crappiness that most old movies do.

The Smurfs (2011)

I really liked that The Smurfs wasn't just CGI but was CGI + live action. Seeing real-life people react with horror to encountering Smurfs for the first time was very satisfying; usually, when fantasy characters encounter real-life people in movies, the people don't react with nearly enough astonishment. I also loved seeing the invisible membrane between the real world and the Smurf village being penetrated (which makes the Smurf village visible) and seeing the Smurf village for the first time. The animation scene with two Smurfs riding on he backs of Storks was pretty nice, too.

Gargamel was also very well done, including his facial attributes. It was fun to see that character interact with the real world, including him getting tased by the police, someone yelling at him to take his meds, and him doing powerful CGI sorcery. 

I liked the look of the Smurfs' animation better than that of the 2025 version of The Smurfs according to the trailer. The latter seemed to unnaturally "flatten" the shading of the Smurfs, while the former seemed more realistic and vivid. I also liked the general shape of the Smurfs and the slightly furry look of their skin to make it not so sterile. 

The animation of Gargamel's cat was done very well—I wouldn't have known it was CGI if not for its unrealistic antics, including a couple of places where it actually laughed...I found seeing and hearing the cat laughing both disturbingly bizarre and somehow funny at the same time.

One thing that seemed kind of lacking, though, was physical interaction between the Smurfs and real-life characters. E.g., they didn't impart any kinetic energy onto the people when they jumped on them and such, I remember one part where Neil's character was looking all around mystified like his house was infested with ghosts rather than at the actual Smurfs, and when he was patting one Smurf on the back, it didn't seem like his hand was actually touching the Smurf. But that seems like it's par for CGI + live action movies.

It was cool to see Neil Patrick Harris of Dougie Howser fame starring in it, as well as the beautiful Sofía Vergara playing Neil's character's boss. 

The narrator's style of speaking seemed kind of like it was catering to dumb people, similarly to the Animal Planet series Too Cute!, but maybe that's just me. It's also probably forgivable since The Smurfs is a children's cartoon. 

I found the storyline not bad, and it had a moral to it if not more than one.

Overall, I'd recommend this movie for children. For adults? Maybe, at least/especially if they share my appreciation for movies that mix cartoons with live action.

Barbie

This movie has its pros and cons. It's very philosophical/insightful regarding human life and the relationship between the two sexes, or at least of the patriarchy and what it's like to be a woman (but of course it's not philosophical in a pontificating way), but I found the "real world" in the movie to be disappointingly unrealistic and even hokey in some parts. 

I don't like unrealism in general, but it's especially important when you're introducing fantasy characters or other elements into the "real world" for the "real world" and the reactions of the people in it to the characters/elements to be realistic, because that makes it all the more satisfying and fun.

Also, I would have liked if they'd gone more in-depth about men's troubles and not just women's troubles to balance things out, but perhaps that would have been beside the point of the movie. I don't know, I think they could have worked it in. I think the movie was reflecting our cultural bias toward recognizing women's hardships and not men's, which are equally significant, or even if they're somewhat less so all added up, they're still significant, they're unique to men, and they go largely unacknowledged.

I also found it disappointing that even in the ideal land of Barbie, they thought it okay to restore the matriarchy and the subjugation of men through underhanded subterfuge, manipulating and undermining the male sex. It's like our minds are so encultured by the ubiquity of evil in this world that such a thing was seen as a part of an ideal or pat story.

I also found the part where Ken has his catharsis and realizes that "Ken is me!" to be more than somewhat clumsy, incoherent, forced and rushed.

I also found the whole scene where all the Kens are dressed in black and dancing to music in a blank room to be pointless.

I did like that Mattel was willing to engage in a fair amount of self-criticism in the movie.

It was nice to see Margot Robbie as the star of the film because she's so beautiful. It was also cool to see Rhea Perlman for the first time since Cheers. I usually love seeing movies with Will Farrell, but in this case he played the hokiest character of them all in the "real world," so his character was disappointing.

I liked that they made a lot of songs specifically for this movie rather than just using pre-existing songs, and they weren't bad. I particularly liked 'Closer to Fine' by Brandi Carlile and Catherine Carlile. I also like that they had a Karol G song in the movie—I love her song "El Barco", and Barbie's song "Watati" has some of the same charm. 

This movie also has its funny parts. My favorite was when Weird Barbie was explaining to Stereotypical Barbie how to get back to Barbie land. She said to do the same thing she did to get to the real world but in reverse, and Barbie said (something like), "So do I go forward but do the steps in reverse, or..", and Weird Barbie said, "Don't overthink it." To my mind, it highlights the overly simplistic nature of such TV and film tropes where important details are glossed over.

At the risk of making this review too long, one other thing I liked about this movie was the ambiguity in whether Barbie actually wanted all this disruption to happen or if it just happened because she was emotionally intertwined with her real-world owner. Twice, somebody said to her that she must have wanted it to happen, and she emotively responded that she didn't want any of it to happen, and the person said that either way, it happened because she was intertwined with her handler. This kind of open-ended existential ambiguity is very atypical of movies, which tend to be heavy-handed or pat in a way. It's very Eyes Wide Shut-ish and philosophical in a way. 

One thing that bothered me about the movie was the glaring illogicity in it that Barbie had exactly one real-world handler she was associated with that she had to find and that she would just know who it was when she saw her, even though Barbie was apparently the only one of her type in Barbie land (and, according to the movie, she was an embodiment of the very idea of Barbie). Obviously, there are millions of Barbies out there with millions of handlers. But I guess hey, whatever, it's just a movie.

Overall, I'd recommend watching this movie if for no other reason than to hear Gloria's insightful spiels on the contradictory expectations and hardships placed on woman, because being aware of a sociological situation goes a long way toward transcending it.

WandaVision

WandaVision is one of Marvel's greatest works, in my opinion, and it touched my soul more than almost any other series or movie. The main idea was also as completely novel as it was simple, as far as I'm aware. To adequately comment on the main idea of the miniseries, I'll have to give a bit of a spoiler. The spoiler will ruin some of the excellent development and twists that lead up to us figuring out what's truly going on in Wandaville, but on the other hand, who hasn't seen WandaVision by now that's ever going to see it? 

I can personally relate to the idea of unconsciously psychically controlling the actions of everyone around me in order to avoid their leading me to face some very uncomfortable truth. I don't even know why; it's for metaphysical reasons whose possible interpretations are as varied as they are subtle. I don't know if it's just me or if this is more of a universal nerve the writers have pressed, but just the fact that they made a miniseries based on this ostensibly strange premise seems to indicate it's the latter. 

In Wanda's case, the uncomfortable truth being avoided is the death of her lover, Vision, while I think the personal and/or universal nerve it touches has more to do with deep-seated shame as a result of the harm one has caused others. However, being torn apart by the death of a loved one is in itself one of the most powerful  and relatable psychological forces, and furthermore, I believe the other thing Wanda is avoiding confronting is the manner in which she's hurting everyone in the town a great deal by psychically controlling and entrapping them in the first place, so the need to further control them becomes a vicious circle, like so many of the most dangerous pitfalls in life.

One interesting thing of note is how confident Wanda is in her decisions, fighting with all her might against the witch who's there to bring her reckoning, even after having been brought to realize on a conscious level what she'd been doing. I think this is an example of how one can go wrong by having total trust in themselves while not realizing that they're capable of being deeply in the moral wrong. In this case, you only realize your folly after it's too late, and in Wanda's case, her only redemption involved making the ultimate sacrifice later on in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (yes, sorry, another spoiler).

Another interesting thing the line between life and death that Vision unwittingly treads. He's only given animation by Wanda's powers, but at the same time it's as if he has a life of his own. He doesn't realize he's dead at first or that he's being controlled by Wanda, and he becomes confused and angry when he eventually realizes/confronts the fact that he can't remember his past. 

I also enjoyed the fact that we got to see Elizabeth Olsen in a major acting role. For 32 years all we had ever heard about were Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. I didn't even know they had a younger sister before WandaVision, let alone that she's a good actress. And on top of that she's really cute! The Scarlet Witch (a.k.a. Wanda Maximoff) was in movies before WandaVision, but I guess I'd just never realized whom she was played by.

I don't watch a lot of movies or TV series, but I'm very glad I watched this one.

Agatha All Along

I liked Agatha All Along, even though I'm pretty sure it "objectively" wasn't as good as WandaVision, which Agatha All Along is a spinoff of. 

One thing that really struck me was that the quality of Aubrey Plaza's acting seemed better than anything else I've ever seen her in. I ❤️ Aubrey Plaza, but in general it's not particularly her acting that sells, it's her persona.

I also liked that we finally got to see what happened to Wanda's kids after the dissolution of Wandaville. I'd been wondering when we were going to find that out ever since WandaVision ended. I had no idea it was revealed in this miniseries.

The worst thing about the miniseries, in my opinion, was that the witch's road—the parts of it that weren't challenges inside buildings—looked so obviously like a set that it took me right out of the show. 

The only other particularly bad thing about it was that they made it harder and harder to really like the main character as they revealed more about her. But I guess we're supposed to be sold on the fact that, in the end, she felt too guilty to face her son due to her past, at least. 

Oh, and actually, one of the bad things that was revealed about her just seemed like a cheap plot twist, as it didn't really resonate with the show's history up to that point. She had seemed to so earnestly want to try the witch's road and to get all of the other witches onboard (beyond any reasonable consideration that it was all just a ruse), and then we find out that she never really believed in the witch's road and had just wanted to steal all their power and kill them. She had even confided in one of them earlier that she can only steal a witch's power if they unleash it on her, which is especially inconsistent with that turn of events. I don't mind giving away this particular spoiler, as I feel that the writers committed an intellectual crime against the viewer on this point.

One other thing worth noting was that the show was a bit macabre, as (spoiler:) nearly all of the protagonists died eventually.

There's a pretty amazing and unexpected twist at the end that I thought was good, that I won't reveal here.

The show ended in a way that seemed to suggest there may be a future season, but we're not really told one way or the other about whether there will be. I read somewhere that the fact that Agatha All Along was submitted for awards as Best Comedy Series rather than Best Miniseries or whatever may indicate that they're planning future seasons.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

I finally got around to watching Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. I'd been waiting for this sequel for many years; I think it was a long time ago that it was first promised. 

I'm not sure I can do this movie justice, especially while trying not to give away too many spoilers, but...

It's been a long (long) time since I've watched the original, and I don't have a great memory, but I have the impression this movie has a more complex plot. I was thinking for most of the movie that they tried hard, and Keaton's performance was on par with the original, and a lot of the special effects and style matched the original, but that somehow I liked the original better, that this movie just didn't have the same charm somehow. 

But then I got to the Macarthur Park wedding scene. That scene was a masterpiece. I love a good mind-bending piece of media (case in point: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLGj0JMDT1Q, though maybe it only works if Super Mario Bros. 3 was an integral part of your childhood), and Beetlejuice et al. dancing to and singing Macarthur Park in the original singer's voice was truly surreal. The inherent beauty of real music, and in particular this song, which is one of my favorites, elevated the scene to a sublime level, which provided mind-melting contrast given Beetlejuice's stylishly filthy, demonic nature. This scene made the movie for me. 

There was also no shortage of unexpected twists and turns in this movie, the best ones being right at the end. One of them was assumed to be a wholesome and beautiful moment that suddenly became very defiled in an absurd and humorous way, and the other seemed to indicate that maybe Beetlejuice hadn't died in the end after all.

There were two parts of this movie that made me laugh out loud. The first was when Beetlejuice swore to keep a promise on his mother's grave, and then suddenly, unexpectedly by him, his shirt caught on fire. The second was when Astrid (Jenna Ortega's character) and Lydia end up in the desert/no man's land of the afterlife, and Astrid sees Saturn and concludes that they're on one of its moons, and blurts out, "I swear, the afterlife is so random!" (If you see this movie, or probably even if you've seen the original, you'll see how that line was a bit of meta-humor.)

And speaking of Jenna Ortega, it's always a pleasure seeing her in anything, as she has such a cute, cool-looking face as well as a cool persona, so having her in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was a real boon for the movie.

If I had any complaints, one was that the characters weren't astonished and/or reactive enough in response to discovering certain realities or turns of events, but that's typical of movies; but even more forgivably, it was probably part of the intentional aesthetic of the Beetlejuice franchise. Or at least the lack-of-astonishment part probably was; there was one part where a beloved family member died permanently, and the family hardly reacted with any emotion at all. (I guess the blow was softened by the fact that it was clear that the person would be hanging out in the afterlife from then on out, but still.)

Another complaint would be that I never understood why Willem Dafoe played an actor playing an afterlife crime unit agent, but that fake crime unit agent had a practical role with real consequences. It didn't seem to make much sense, but maybe I just missed some important plot point there. Or maybe the movie just doesn't have to make total sense, and that element did add a certain amount of flare or colorfulness after all. I had some other complaints, but they're too minor to mention here.

Overall, I think this movie was worth watching, even though it may have lacked a certain je ne sais quoi that the first one had.

Cast Away

So, I find myself in a Holiday Inn Express on our way back to Miami watching Cast Away on the biggest TV I've ever seen in a motel or hotel. I've seen this movie before, but it's probably been over two decades, and I have a terrible memory.

Warning: This review has spoilers, because everybody already knows exactly what happens in Cast Away by now.

This is yet another iconic film starring Tom Hanks—maybe not as iconic as Forrest Gump, but iconic things have definitely come out of it, mainly memes surrounding Wilson, the volley ball that he uses to keep him company throughout the film. (Throughout most of this movie, Tom Hanks' character is trapped alone on an island after surviving a plane crash, but you probably knew that...)

Sometimes I think Tom Hanks isn't an especially great actor for how popular he is, because he's not extremely expressive, but this movie reminds me of why he actually is a great actor. He really takes you into the movie (as opposed to taking you out of it); he just doesn't overdo it. Sometimes he's subtle, such as his body language and facial expression while the pilots are trying to get in touch with Air Traffic Control and not succeeding: you can tell he's not quite sure the situation is dire, but he's wondering. (I think credit for this partially goes to the director, too.)

The movie moves kind of slowly, if you really think about it, but it's not actually boring. Not a lot of things happen per unit time, yet it's still interesting, probably because when trapped on a deserted island, everything you do can be close to being a life-and-death situation. 

One thing that kind of bugs me or at least disappoints me about the movie is that you never get to find out why the plane suddenly went down. I mean, I know they were struggling in the storm, but they were flying along relatively fine until the everything suddenly went haywire in an instant. Oh, now I just  got to a point in the movie I'd forgotten: we find out that experts never determined why the plane went down. So that's better, it makes it an actual plot point.

Another thing in the film that stood out to me is that just before he gets rescued, I don't know if it's just me or if it was intentional, but there's a moment where you're not sure if he's going to get rescued or die at sea. It's perfectly ambiguous as he swims out away from his makeshift raft to chase after Wilson just as he gets close to the being saved, as at one point he drops beneath the surface. I've never decided whether this was good story-telling or needlessly contrived emotional manipulation. But I guess that's me: I'm not particularly fond of suspense, nor of sad stories. But now I just got to that point in the movie, and it turns out it was more suspenseful in my memory than it was on second watching. I was fairly different 24 years ago. 

It's poignant how close a bond he developed with Wilson, how important it was to him/how seriously he took it, and how often he talked to it, as if it were a real being. It shows length a human will go to and the insanity when they're deprived of social interaction for years. We're social animals above all else. 

Come to think of it, the timing of his losing Wilson was significant: sometimes we have to get rid of the old, such as old habits that once kept us alive, in order to embrace the new. 

I think the most powerful takeaway from this movie is probably its illustration of the strong human drive to survive: he keeps himself alive for four years on a deserted island, and then eventually makes it back to civilization. Oh, I see now that he talks a little bit about that after he's rescued. He just knew he had to "keep breathing."

The other strongest takeaway, I think, is the existentialism of the end of the movie, when he goes back to his previous wife and she's with another guy, and he has no idea where to go from there. He stands at  a literal and a metaphorical crossroads, then the credits roll. And, like he said earlier, his plan was to continue to just keep breathing.

I hadn't remembered that his finding out that he wasn't going to be back together with her being such a warm encounter. I'm glad we find out that he was still essentially the love of her life—she's even tempted to drive off with him happily ever after, she kisses him, she hugs him at length, etc. (not in that order). That's a lot better than what I had remembered: he shows up at her door, she's surprised, they talk for a bit, she tells him she's already with someone else, and he drives away. I'd be much more satisfied with the actual closure in the movie if I were Tom Hanks' character (what was his name, anyway?) than with what I had thought happened.

So, how would I rate this movie? All in all, while it's a bit harsh to sit through someone being alone for at least half a movie, and the plot seems a bit thin if you don't count all the things he does while he's stuck on the island, if I were Siskel & Ebert, I'd give this movie two thumbs up, despite myself. I'd also be two people; imagine the parapsychological experiments I could conduct... and also I'd get to eat twice as much food. Oh, and not to mention this probably would have been a much better review. Win/win.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is very bleak and gruesome. I saw it in the theater with my mom and my ex-girlfriend who's now my friend. I was literally afraid while watching it that I wouldn't be the same for at least the next few days. My mom actually wanted to leave and go home, but she didn't because I didn't want to (I'm a trooper when it comes to watching movies. I've only ever stopped watching 2 or 3 movies before the end in my life. One was Gummo, one was The Usual Suspects, and one was the live action remake of Aladdin). My ex's only comment after the movie was over that it was "too much."

Rotten Tomatoes gave it a score of, if I recall correctly, 98%, so I guess their critics are too "sophisticated" to bothered by depraved gore and figurative darkness and just appreciate the movie for its artistic merit.

And it does have a lot of artistic merit. For example, a couple of the actors/characters they picked and designed for the leaders of the Citadel were aesthetically perfect and striking/mesmerizing. And they seemed to put a lot of effort into designing the many, many ways in which ad hoc machines shredded and otherwise destroyed dozens of antagonists in rapid succession.

Another thing the movie had going for it, speaking purely of aesthetics, was that the main character was as cute as you can possibly get: she was played by Anya Taylor-Joy. 

And speaking of actors and characters, Chris Hemsworth's portrayal of Dr. Dementus (the main antagonist of the film) was really good. I mean, the character was totally original and nothing like anything else Hemsworth has ever played and fit well into the movie. In fact, I literally didn't even recognize that it was Chris Hemsworth throughout the whole film; I only found out after it was over when my mom mentioned it.

One other character I appreciated from this movie was Praetorian Jack, the truck driver. He was very cool in how smoothly and nonchalantly he handled all the various life-threatening intrusions onto his truck by the opposing gang. Though it wasn't as pat as you would expect from most movies: at the risk of including a spoiler, he did end up losing the truck in the end.

But, to go back to the aesthetic qualities of the Citadel leaders, what really mesmerized me the most about this movie was the getup of Immortan Joe, the main leader. I mean, it was such a perfect depiction of sickness, especially sickness in power, and the artificial sustaining of an improper life. Everything from his fierily protruding white hair to his pale face with stark darkness around his eyes to his mouth-covering machinery to, especially, his abdomen cover with perfect contours and organic patterns of off-white and pus yellow coloration, worked together to create a penetrating ensemble. Oh, and his artificially boomy voice fit into that well, too.

But regarding the degree of overall disturbingness of this movie, I've never seen another one that compares. The most bleak movie I'd seen before this one was Pi (which I hated, not only because it was bleak and black-and-white, but because the plot was super thin and the ideas contained therein were trite and irrational, but mostly because it was bleak af), and that move didn't even come close to making me worry about my own mental health.

One redeeming thing that can be said about this movie, though, is that it had a positive ending (because of course it would), and what happens to the antagonist at the end is...interesting, to say the least.

Another overall feature of this movie, which may be for better or for worse, is that it was fairly unrealistic for a variety of reasons. I suppose it has something of a fantasy-film streak, if I'm using that term right.

Regarding the quality of the overall plot/story, I thought it was okay, minus the extremely bleak aspects.

So, in the end, if I could go back and choose knowing what I know now, would I choose to have ever seen this movie, or not? And what rating would I give it? To be honest, I'm not sure. I suppose all impressive experiences have value. Or at least most of them. And as for the rating, uhhh...I'm thinking either a 1 or a 2 (scale unknown). 1 because it was so harsh on my mind and I hated it, but 2 because it had a fair amount of artistic/aesthetic merit, which adds to my overall life experience. 

Should you go and see this movie? Tbh, I guess probably; most people probably aren't as squeamish as I am.

Deadpool & Wolverine

This is a great movie, but unlike most great action movies, there are zero slow and boring parts. The plot was quick-paced all along, and every bit of time was filled with some sort of action, plot advancement, or witty banter, or all three at once. 

The witty dialogues and monologues were packed with more meta-humor on Deadpool's part than a Mel Brooks film, similarly to the first two Deadpool movies only ramped up a notch. Besides merely referencing aspects of the movie production itself or making teasing meta-level observations of transpiring events, some of the meta-humor in the film was meta in the sense of being meta-level teasing of certain characters' actions, words, intentions, choices, character, etc., which satisfyingly serves to provide instant karmic enlightenment by the given character regarding their own follies, rather than the tropes of those follies remaining on a comparatively boring, unevaluated level like with most movies. Or at least we can imagine it did that; they didn't outwardly express the emotional and mental impact of the teasings much. 

The general dialogue of the movie was thick with frequent rapid-fire creative banter, primarily by Deadpool but not exclusively, which made the movie very entertaining. If there was any flaw with the creative banter, it was that it was rather hard to imagine Deadpool likely having the wit to come up with it all so quickly on such a regular basis, thus making it seem a little unreal and perhaps serving to take the viewer out of the movie. 

You'd think something like that taking the viewer out of the movie would be the least concern with all the fourth-wall breaking going on, but the fourth-wall breaking really blends in with the movie well. It doesn't seem to detract from the immersion at all. 

One great thing about this movie is that it borrowed fun elements from various other movies, or at least two: there was a Furiosa: Mad Max Saga-esque world in the movie, and a bad lady had stolen Dr. Strange's Sling Ring and then made use of it in the movie. The plot line also includes the story element of the multiverse with the Time Variance Authority from previous Marvel movies. I particularly enjoyed seeing the alternate Deadpool from some parallel universe who was also played by Ryan Reynolds, who had a positive, puppy-like persona.

Some aspects of this movie's plot were satisfyingly and unexpectedly deep, and while Ryan Reynolds' acting could be considered flawless, what really impressed me about this movie was Hugh Jackman's acting. I thought while watching the movie that he should get a freakin' Oscar for it. This movie really brings out his acting skills more than any previous Marvel movie.

Regarding the quick plot development mentioned above, the one drawback to this was that, while the reason for the resurrection of Wolverine was introduced early on and expeditiously, it seemed to be rather shallow and contrived: it seemed to involve the luck and convenience of a deus ex machina.

Overall, this movie was very fun and satisfying. One thing that made it fun was its levity—which, by the way, included playing upbeat songs like Madonna's 'Like a Prayer,' and a particularly rich remix of it, during massive fight scenes. And speaking of the music, its end-credits song 'LFG (Theme from "Deadpool & Wolverine") by Rob Simonsen was so good that I fired up Shazam to find out what song it was and saved the name of it in my phone for downloading later. And I'm very picky when it comes to music. 

I suggest you don't stop watching the credits there, though; sit it out till the end. There's an end-credits scene, and it's actually the funniest part of the movie, at least as far as I and a few of the other audience members were concerned.

Inside Out and Inside Out 2

Inside Out and Inside Out 2, as successful as those movies were/are, I think are still terribly underrated with respect to their instructional/mentoring value for pre-teens and teenagers.

They each pack within an hour or two what you'd probably need a few lifetimes to figure out otherwise. And if you ever did figure it all out yourself, by the time you did, you would be old enough that your mind/intelligence would be too "crystallized" to change in light of it, and most of the opportunities to do things better would have already passed.

Inside Out and Inside Out 2 are both ingenious in the way they use physical mechanisms and narratives in the fabricated "inner world" to represent actual (meaning "actual" within the movie) mental/emotional mechanisms and narratives in the subject, and the lessons are more or less universal in nature. It's full of apt metaphor after apt metaphor, some of them obvious, some of them subtle enough that you might not consciously get them—at least not without thinking for a bit.

(I suspect that, even if you don't "get" some of the metaphors on a conscious level, they may still ultimately sink in in the way that matters, much like how the symbolism of a dream has a positive/healing/normalizing impact on your subconscious mind whether you consciously understand it or not. Not all subtle metaphors in the world of fiction have this quality, of course, but the metaphors in question are directly about the workings of emotions and the mind.)

And I can tell that the fact that this is all represented as a story with emotions as characters and various mental props gives it a powerful impact and enables it to settle/osmose into the minds of young viewers without any necessary effort, unlike, say, a psychology text or even a good self-help book. Even therapy would be a lot of drudgery compared to these movies (but not to claim that these movies necessarily completely replace the utility of therapy, nor probably of a good book for that matter).

Please have your kids see Inside Out and Inside Out 2. (The protagonist is 11 in Inside Out, and 13 in Inside Out 2, to give a hint of age-appropriateness, but I think the range of applicable ages is actually very wide.) And tell all your friends about it.

The creators of these movies make me envious and make me want to do something equally good for humankind.

Bram Stokem's dracula with Gary oldman

Ebert didn't like him because he's egoistic but I thought he was cool.
and Mike doesn't like ebert because he thinks he's egoistic but I think he's cool.
;)

My reviews are short these days haha.

The Thomas Crown Affair

The Thomas Crown Affair was released in 1968 and was the origin of that legendary song, The Windmills of Your Mind. A remake was done in 1999. I will be reviewing and comparing both of them. (For the best rendition of The Windmills Of Your Mind ever, you might want to check out Dusty Springfield..)

The original movie was about a man who was, perhaps, a bit too sold on his own mind.. for better and worse. He seemed to be completely bored with life, but could pull off amazing feats using the intellect alone, and he did -- just for kicks. For example, stealing several bags of cash from a bank without ever getting caught and without having to set foot inside a bank, and when he didn't even really need the money.

Thomas Crown and Vicki Anderson (somebody sent by the bank's insurers to help convict Tommy) have a jeopardous affair, a strange embrace between two twisted psyches that gives the term "sleeping with the enemy" new meaning. It is a "psychological" movie in the fullest sense. Much of the movie hangs on the subtlest nuances.

The characters in the first movie were in some way deeply human and conflicted despite their almost sociopathic extremities, so it wasn't entirely impossible to garner some level of affection for them. The ramped-up characters in the remake were more self-confident, more comfortable, smoother, more decisive in their absurdities -- a bit too self-confident, maybe: they were cold as ice and smooth as stone, almost invariably, and I found it impossible to find any kind of affection for either character, except in particular sparse moments in the film. They had no human vulnerability or warmth to them; there was no meaning to their interactions.

..But no, they weren't graceful enough to be boring. Their antics pulled at the resource of their own mental abstractions over their once-human egos, a language mutually understood by both of them even if, most of the time, they were merely both alone together. There are some sensually passionate scenes in the movie, but I wonder if that in itself is one of the lies that we're sold by the media: that such cold-hearted psycho-mavens can ever actually enjoy passion, that their connection lies just a kiss away..

Basically, for most of the movie its makers merely used the Thomas Crown affair story as a framework in which to proffer more of the same sensationalistic bone-chilling psycho-social foolery that, apparently, Americans are idolizing these days.

The original film was criticized for having a thin plot-line, but I didn't personally see it that way. The film is all about psychological nuance, so whenever there is dialog there is content. The glider scene with the debut of The Windmills of Your Mind was also so fulcral to the whole movie that I'm tempted to consider everything else in that movie, past and future, to be merely context-setting for that one consummate moment (now that's what separates a box-office hit from a cult classic..).

By contrast, the 1999 version didn't quite have the same charm, being just another Hollywood ego-sater (they didn't even have The Windmills of Your Mind sung for any scene, because they knew they couldn't live up to that), but I'll hand it to them: their story of the heist was much more enthralling and intricate and demonstrative of Thomas Crown's genius. However, the heist wasn't the only aspect of the story they changed.. they diametrically changed the ending from a sad one to a happy one, which was 90% of the movie's message in the original film, so it's basically not even The Thomas Crown Affair anymore. It's another lucrative Hollywood endeavor.

The first story was bittersweet and highlighted the weakness of the mind to immediately change its course, however much one might want it want to. The 1999 story included some of that, but it wasn't poignant in the same way, not being in the denouement of the film. The first film also showed Tommy Crown's amazing guile and altruism in allowing his potential companion to decline; the second film allowed him to use his skill to break her down and cajole her into trusting again -- with no possible sacrifice for him, and they both assumably lived happily ever after.. though on rather tenuous bases, if you ask me. Or if you ask his therapist -- who, interestingly enough, was played by the same woman who played his lover in the previous film, now 31 years the wiser. (Quote: "If you've found a female mirror image, and think you're going to form a rewarding relationship..")

Overall, I think the first incarnation of the film is a "cult classic" for a reason. The second film was just too cold, for the most part, to empathize with the characters, though the whole process where he established trust between them, once and for all, was very touching. Also, the original film was fraught with all the tensions and perils of being human; in the second, they were both übermenschen to everyone else and to its audience, knowing only secretly, somewhere deep down (or maybe only occasionally, for the script), that they had truly only lost their way home. Actually though, to be honest, only she knew this in the 1999 version. In the 1968 version, perhaps, in his own way, only he knew.

BTW, here's a Radiohead music video that these two movies reminded me of.

Alice in Wonderland (2010)

There's not much to say about this movie, but well, it's been a while since I've updated my blog.

First of all, Mia Wasikowska was __absolutely__beautiful__ in this movie; oh, my God, *swoon*. The things they can do with makeup are amazing -- not to say that she's ugly in real life, just.. there were some -- okay, many -- moments in this movie where I just wanted to jump out of my skin to kiss her. And for reasons I don't completely understand, one scene with her, with her particular face and her hair, wearing this really shiny metal armor, was one of the most titillating things I've seen in my life. (I'm still waiting for the DVD to come out, so that I can capture images from that scene..)

The beginning part of the movie, that is, the part before Alice goes down the rabbit hole, was elegant.. not overwhelmingly fantastic, but just generally well-done, flawless. I get the impression that Burton conveyed precisely the context and set-up he wanted to without falter: a Victorian-age scenario in which a fundamentally free-spirited young woman is totally lost within the binds of a suffocatingly strict and overbearing family and society.

To be honest, I thought that Mia's performance lacked a little bit of..spunk. Not to the degree that it stands out as awkward or ineffective, but just enough that one might think to wonder where the beef is, so to speak, despite the acting being consistently..adequate and sufficient. This goes not only for the pretext part of the film, but also for Wonderland portion. For example, when she's supposed to show that she's brave, it's believable, and yet at the same time, you wouldn't have noticed she's brave by what she does if you didn't know that she's supposed to be..

But it's not really that bad, and hardly noticeable; I just thought it was odd for a $250,000,000 movie. And on the other hand, I've noticed that these oddly mild roles seem to make it much easier to balance odd and impossible forces in a film..

The Wonderland segment of the movie lacked nothing to be desired either. The scenery, I would say, was ideal...with one exception: the lighting. Sadly, the dreary, dismal lighting in Wonderland was the one aspect of this film that's uniquely Burtonian, yet also the one thing that somewhat dragged down the entire movie. It would have been so beautiful otherwise. (I say that because I really resonated with the scenery and *not* with the lighting.)

I have to admit, I didn't have high expectations for this movie. Although I was absolutely certain that I had to see it just to find out (because I LOVE Alice in Wonderland story, and because it has Johnny Depp), the only preview of this movie I ever had was a psychedelic image of Johnny Depp that seems frightfully similar to his role in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which I have to say was an absolutely horrible movie (and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was my absolute favorite movie as a child). I wouldn't have even watched it if I'd known. In fact, I don't think ever did finish watching it.

But Johnny Depp's character in this film was pretty satisfying.. basically, because I *adore* crazy people. I mean really batsh*t insane characters. And especially cool is that he's the kind of crazy person who's clever and really has his wits about him when he needs them. But that's not to say the mad hatter is not actually crazy; believe me: he is. This is demonstrated by one really sad, funny, and endearing part of the movie near the end: when Alice tells him that this is all just a dream of hers (because she firmly believes it's so), it implies that he'll cease to exist when she wakes up...and he *believes it*. You can tell this by purely by his facial expression.

I've heard one critic comment that the film has sacrificed much of the heart of Lewis Carrol's original Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and that's definitely true. In case you don't know, the story and dialogue were completely changed. The charm and cognitive stimulation of the original book are completely lost in this film; the only things left are the characters and this concept of a heroic belief in the impossible. [SPOILER] Basically, the whole movie crescendos into a moment or two in the end in which Alice defeats an evil dragon by believing "6 impossible things before breakfast," and has come to realize that Wonderland is actually real -- that it's not just another one of her scary dreams. That's it. That's the whole point of the movie. [/SPOILER] The absurdities and twists of logic that made Carrol's original story what it is are few, far between and superficial in this movie.

I was just somewhat disappointed by the vacuous direction (read: not *directing*) of this movie. It was basically $250,000,000 and an hour and 49 minutes dedicated to showcasing (per se) the concept of "believing in the impossible." But I say "somewhat" because the moral of the story isn't everything to me: I liked Depp's character, *LOVED* Mia Wasikowska's physical appearence, admired certain aspects of the directing (/casting/writing?) skill, and enjoyed the execution of scenery. Overall, I thought this movie was well-done and better than expected. (I was actually intrigued and surprised by the quality of what I surmised was the directing, and only later found out that it was by Tim Burton.)

Note: I watched this movie in 2-D, not 3-D. None of us really wanted to deal with those retarded red and green/blue and yellow/whatever glasses, and the IMAX's showing just didn't fit into our schedule..so YMMV.

American Psycho

'American Psycho' seems just like that kind of bad rehash of novel where the rewriters take only the book's superficial elements, those that were originally used contextually to convey something true, and then represent them verbatim in cinemagraphic form, like some sort of Aspergian scribe, and yet with just enough remixing of the elements added to adapt to the alternative medium that it makes me think of the amoral profiteer who abides by some perfect pragmatism. The authors took the same tools and copied them to the new medium, when the apt thing to do, had they understood its artistic quality, would have been a retooling of the message prior to its conveyance.

Perhaps it's just the same old tale, though; throughout history the works of true geniuses have been ill-understood and simply copied and rehashed by their devotees, as opposed to having been significantly understood and expounded upon or adapted.

For example, in the novel, the narrator occasionally breaks form and talks directly to the reader about something completely irrelevant: critiques and analyses of some of his favorite bands. (Entire chapters are devoted to this.) This technique helps to drill in to the reader the utter detachment of a character who believes and behaves as if "the inside doesn't matter"; it's all about external circumstances and his image. In the movie, on the other hand, he randomly goes into (verbatim) spiels about certain bands and their music with a kind of deranged fervor, just prior to, and climaxing in, bludgeoning someone to death. This gives the viewer a completely different impression. For me, the impression was marked mainly by my wondering what the hell would drive somebody to want to start talking excitedly and sophisticatedly on the topic of a certain artist (like Phil Collins) right before killing someone. The impression may have been different for different people, but I have almost no doubt that it didn't make the appropriate impression on anybody.

In another shining example, Bateman is made *so* perturbed by the sight of his coworkers' (arguably) superior business cards that he becomes irascible, then actually goes mad. This happens on multiple occasions, and while it's meant to signify his imbalanced priorities — or, more accurately, the dourness with which he wants first and foremost to fit in —, its characteristic disharmony with the rest of the motif leaves one feeling more as if he's somehow acquired some sort of business-card-specific psychosis, that perhaps he should just go see a psychologist/therapist about.

In another example, in the novel people consistently laugh off or otherwise fail to take seriously his recounting of the horrible things he's done, furthering the impression of his isolation, lack of ability to connect, and perhaps even his confusion over whether he did indeed do any of those things. In the movie, though, this only happens *once* (with his lawyer), which serves only to outline his unheard catharsis, and perhaps also to show, in denouement, that he never really did all those things he thought he did. In the novel this fact is left continually unclear (to help create for the reader the sense of Bateman's acute isolation), while in the movie you're somewhat duped into believing it's real until the very end.

Oh, there was also a point in the movie at which Bateman was seemingly told by an automated teller machine, "feed me a stray cat" (which he then attempted to do). It may have been funny and perhaps even developmental in the novel, but again, in the movie it was simply discordant with everything else, there having been nowhere to place it, as he had not been prone to hallucinations, and we were barely even hinted at that time that his murderous outings were merely fabrications of his mind. Also, Christian Bale himself — mainly his visage — just did not complement well the utter insanity and frustration of his played character, Patrick Bateman. And nor did I ever have any clear picture of what manner of development or real emotions were supposed to have been going on from the time in which he seemed just a little bit vain, to the time in which his behavior was totally batshit insane. Basically, nothing in this movie came together.

Finally, the really ironical thing here is that, while the movie strikes me as a badly done mishmash of tools used contextually in a novel, for the novel, by a master, the novel itself reads distinctly like a *movie script* — so much so that it's hard to convince myself that I'm reading a novel, not a screenplay, which was intended to be read. The obvious solution, it seems to me? Just make a really looong movie (I suppose it would have to be a mini-series) out of it.. ;)

**note: this is an unfinished rewiew, as i haven't actually read the novel yet. i plan to read it soon, though. :)

Enchanted

At first I was afraid this movie would be horribly lackluster. The entire animated beginning was self-aware and effective at creating the most generic summation and rehash of all the Disney fairy tales combined, and with a perceptible yet not even overtly self-teasing accentuation on the ridiculous patness of it all, but it failed to deliver much, if any, abstract humor and generally failed to be endearing or entertaining at all. Now begins the real-life segment. Enter Giselle, whose real-life counterpart looks nothing like any previous animated Disney star (which I thought was going to bring the whole movie down for me — but in the end, I loved her), meeting with full force the harshness and total oddity of NYC, hence opening for plenty of opportunities for humorous misunderstandings, but none were forthcoming: the only semi-funny thing she did, at least at start, was to mistake a poor, incredulous midget for 'Grumpy'. Then we eventually meet Robert Philip, a kind of guy who takes everything so suavely that if Mary Poppins descended upon him hanging from her umbrella, he may or may not blink, and then would proceed to ask her if she could see 8th Street from where she was because he's late for work and 8th St. is often congested at that time of day. He was pretty much the same guy I complained about previously in Hancock, with only a slightly different face.

But unlike Hancock, it's probably necessary or even vital for this movie to have Robert Philip be represented by such a character, because otherwise either his constant amazement and/or bewilderment, or lack of said bewilderment, would probably detract from that beautiful interplay we see between the Disney-real and the really-real. To my delight, this movie was not all just laughs and a romantic story. Of course one might expect that, in such a movie, inevitably there would be some synthesis between the Disneyesque and the realistic that brings one to a higher integration; but the way this facet was engaged in some of the parts seemed truly brilliant to me. It made me wonder if this could have been done any other way: Amy Adams' acting as a sweet, innocent fairy-tale character might have been flawless, and Patrick Dempsey's character was, though principally unfazeable, not otherwise too out of the ordinary as a human being. In some parts, this really brought it together in a way that could almost defy the imagination. I was really happy to see it.

And while Mr. Philip may ooze moderation from every pore (if and when Mr. Philip should choose to sweat), his reaction to the fantastical display by Queen Narissa, near the ending, was definitely satisfying enough. The unbelievable sort of got more and more real through the course of the movie, but never really crossed that line into "Holy Shit! What The Fuck!?" (for our unwitting muggles) until that event, and that's just the kind of thing I love in a movie.

As for the humor, don't get me wrong: overall it was not without its moments. Which reminds me: I also found remarkable the integrity with which the main Disney-made-real characters, Giselle and Prince Edward, stuck to their ideal characters, even when confronted with the chaos of the unknown and the overbearing power of familiarity, re what passes as mundane and tainted life for you, me, and, no doubt, the writers. But, in fact, it wasn't just this integrity: it was also the playing on those subtle differences between the two realities that only the clever mind would think to capitalize on, as opposed to merely subliminally avoiding.

One thing about the ending: while this Disney movie proffers to present a realistic perspective on all previous Disney fantasies — a reality check of sorts —, the ending was basically as idealistic and Disneyesque as you can get. [Begin Spoiler] The two estranged lovers predictably paired up with each other, the evil queen was spectacularly defeated, and everyone lived happily ever after. Literally — it was written in the sky with stars [End Spoiler]. It sort of makes me want to take back all those nice things I said about synthesis and integration, but oh well. I guess you can't blame Disney for being Disney, in "The End."

The only other thing I have to say is that I'm now left with a mild and puzzling crush on Amy Adams (or at least the character she played..), despite my better judgement, which is to not fall in love with an actor Just because she play an endearing character. ...unless it's been several endearing characters. ...or unless they star in a TV show, hence consistently playing an endearing character across many distinct episodes. But otherwise, bah...stupid movies!!

The X Files: I Want to Believe

I have to say that I thought this was a good movie..but that could be just because my expectations were set pretty low as a result of their *first* movie. But what I found is that the emotional story (particularly between Mulder and Scully) was satisfying and rich with development; the twists were sufficiently twisty without going overboard and keeping the viewer in a constant state of confusion for its own sake; the ambiguities (near the ending) were appropriate and not overboard; and the main problem to be solved was refreshingly down-to-Earth - as in not particularly paranormal (even if somewhat implausible) - because I'd long since grown tired of all the X-Files' fantastical mind-candy and stopped watching it. And yet even without being paranormal (as such), it was a quite stirring scenario..in the mainly disturbing way.

One caveat: my sister had complained that the movie didn't provide enough suspense in regard to what paranormal thing might happen next. Perhaps my having tired of the typical X-Files motif, combined with my very low expectations, allowed me to appreciate the movie for its *other* qualities, but Your Mileage May Vary.

The above being said, there *was* a plot-thread that seemed to comprise a paranormal theme. I say "seem to" because they left that determination rather...indeterminate, but if I had to guess I'd say that the viewer is supposed to assume that it was paranormal.

My only one gripe with the movie is that Father Joe didn't seem to be very believable, in *any* aspect or interpretation. He basically just looked cool..his facial features did go pretty well with the falling snow and ice scapes (which seem to be a common theme with the X-Files movies thus far). Speaking of Father Joe, though, one element of the movie I really did appreciate was its ballsy positioning regarding the Catholic priesthood. In the spirit of the X-Files, that too was of course neither all one way nor all the other, but I would venture to say that it was certainly a lot of both.

Overall rating: 4 stars. Not a must-see within the wider realm of movies, but should be worth your time at least if you were even somewhat of an X-Files fan.

I Am Legend

This movie was very bad. The one aspect I did like about it is that it illustrated a world abandoned by humans (a city overgrown by weeds, etc.) and one man's plight to survive in it. I love that kind of theme. But that's one of my own personal quirks, so for you, my readers, this movie had no saving grace.

The movie was pretty monotonous.. it was the same settings, the same area, with no other characters (not even extras), over and over again day by day. That alone just leaves me with a very empty feeling - the feeling that I'd just watched a mostly abysmal movie. But of course, there *were* the zombies..

The zombies were supposed to be humans that had been converted by disease, but yet they were portrayed with a completely different cultural mentality.. they were just supposed to be *automagically* evil. Oh, and also super strong. Since when does disease make people superhuman? Oh, well. BTW, they also went through a lot of trouble to try to feast on the one human surviving in that area..you'd think a group that large would starve to death if that were their main source of food. But the main thing that bothered me about them wasn't even the lack of realism; it was that they tried to keep the zombies' portrayal at a totally superficial level...even though half the movie was about them. And they did try to get into somewhat sentimental areas with them, for example something involving them having a leader, but without providing any character development or elucidation at all. It was all just disconcerting.

But here's the stupidest part..
-----------------------------
***BEGIN SPOILER***
-----------------------------
The hero dies without reason. Firstly, the scenario that they made for him die in was *completely transparently* ad hoc/contrived/gratuitous/whathaveyou. I mean even *bad sci-fi* is better than this was, at least it's colorful. I'd never seen something so obviously pulled out of a writer's arse in a movie. And it's not EVEN just that -- add to it that even *within* the gratuitous scenario that had they set up for him to die in, his death was unreasonable. He could have *easily* done something differently in order to defy death, or rather, to not *jump into* it (there was enough room in the compartment)..AND they could have easily changed the scene so that he couldn't have done that, but yet they didn't. So they obviously just put no effort into it at all...probably just like the rest of the movie.
-----------------------------
***END SPOILER***
-----------------------------

The bottom line here is that I don't get how such a dismal writer/director was graced with the likes of Will Smith, and I'd recommend not wasting your time with this movie. Unless, of course, you're one of the millions of moviegoers who are apparently easily impressed..

Signs

It was a long time ago, but here's what I remember:

Oh, my God! WHY would someone fill the first, oh I dunno, HOUR AND A HALF of a movie with *absolutely nothing*? I sat there the whole time virtually jaw-dropped at how boring the movie is. You know how at the beginning of a movie it might show, for example, a guy smoking a cigarette, and then you expect the action to start.. well, this was a lot of waiting. For this movie I think they didn't quite have enough action to fill half a full-length film.

I would've said that the *rest* of the movie was okay, except for the fact that any movie that paints aliens in a negative light is...how can I put this delicately...using the concept of "aliens" like a cheap whore. It's too important a matter to use just to stimulate our fears. To give our brothers (the Zeta Reticuli, et al) a bad name just for cheap thrills, or even to convey a philosophical concept, is just _not_ worth it. You hearing me, Hollywood writers?

Also, I think that Shyamalan's movies are characteristically rather thin in central idea. As in, good central idea, but perhaps it would have worked better as a bed-time story (for your daughter). But I did like the idea of this one..synchronicity. Something people are generally too afraid to explore. (The only other example I know of is Indigo.) So if people are willing to wait through the whoole movie just to see the ending, then I think that it's a good movie to be out there on the shelves. Thank You For Watching.

Although, on second thought, I still think that conveying an inspiring spiritual message by way of disparaging all non-Earthy beings in the universe in general (by virtue of the fact that *any* impressions we have now are necessarily first impressions) is still a little strangely clashing (or maybe a lot), and doesn't make me feel wholly enthusiastic about this movie. Perhaps then, it's just one for the archives.

Hancock

This movie was pretty good. My favorite part is the ending, which I won't give away here.

There was a couple of things I didn't like about this movie. One was Jason Bateman's character. He seemed like a rather nonchalant, downright sleazy guy, but not *acutely* sleazy, and having no other traits to speak of. Except for his wild ambitions to help the world. Strange huh? Also, he seemed impossible to surprise. I can't give it away but he found out something pretty damned important and mind-blowing about a subject one would normally be heavily emotionally invested in, and he basically just sat there being somewhat angry or stern but not particularly much of anything. I don't even know what anybody was aiming for there...the whole thing was just rather *weird* and he was like this grey hole of anticlimax. (No, not even a black hole.. just a grey hole.)

The other thing I didn't like was that Ray (Jason Bateman's character) convinced Hancock to "improve his image", by wearing special hero clothes and doing all these good-mannered things, etc., in order to improve his relations with the public. Which may seem cute and all, but it shouldn't have been effective. Hancock obviously had deep emotional issues to deal with, and Ray's idea was to superficially cure the symptoms, while Hancock fell for it (after denying any *real* therapy in prison). At least that's what actually *happened* in the movie, I don't know if that's what they intended for it to look like to the audience. And the superficial fix actually *worked* and made Hancock happy and stuff. So that aspect was like with one of those feel-good movies with the emotional depth of a mosquito, except that Bateman's character wasn't even itself all Bells and Holly. So that part of the movie was neither here nor there.

Overall, though, I think it was a good movie. Will Smith brought it to the table, as usual. And it seems there's always new twists to put on having superpowers.. this one was kind of funny.

One Hour Photo

it was a while ago that I saw this movie, but here's what I remember:

This movie didn't have very much development and had no exciting or interesting moments at all. Unless you count the one scene that seemed like it was straight out of a horror movie. Now, including an uncharacteristic scene for the sake of conveying an important message is something I can understand. But not only was this scene uncharacteristic (and horrific), but its meaning wasn't even remotely clear or straightforward like the rest of the movie was. So that sort of makes it uncharacteristic on two levels, as well as obscene. But enough about specific scenes, what about the plot?

The basic development of this movie can be summarized, without trying to give it away too much, by the following metaphor: say you have two friends, Jack and Earnie. They're friends for many years, until one day Jack discovers somehow that Earnie is very lonely and likes him a little too much.. so Jack stops talking to him and they're no longer friends. ...The End.

In short, this was the worst movie I've ever seen Robin Williams play a part in. ..come to think of it, it was one of the worst movies I've seen, period.

Hell, there was a Roseanne episode that was *MUCH* better at conveying this theme than this movie was, because sitcoms don't have to be pretentious. (I'd tell you the episode name but I can't find it at this time.)