...I'm not sure if this movie is aimed at me or not. I've always maintained that five films into a franchise, you aren't really pandering to newcomers. And yet, FD5 spends a lot of time hacking away at the 'why are they dying in that order?' angle which everyone in the cinema already knows the answer to. So on one hand, the makers of the film are making sure that no viewer is left behind, but on the other, the end-sequence is a huge nod to the first FD, and won't be properly appreciated by your average first-timer.
Me? I'm the best of both worlds. I watched the first FD back in 2000, enjoyed it very much, but never quite got round to watching the second, third or fourth installments. So with that in mind, any references to the films in the middle went right over my head, but it didn't seem to matter.
We kick off with a 3D title-sequence, quite nicely done with things flying in slo-mo at the camera. Then we're introduced to the main characters of the film who are, with one exception, all the kind of people you know you're going to enjoy watching die. I guess that's the point? To just leave one sympathetic character to generate a bit of tension while you chuckle at the others being flayed alive?
After that it's a very standard affair. Sam, our lead (and only likeable person), has a premonition on a bus crossing over a suspension bridge, which leads to him evacuating our core characters and saving their lives, only for the grim reaper to pick them off later, one-by-one in the order in which they died in his vision. It's also worth pointing out that Sam's premonition is not only shown to the audience, but is also five minutes long and gorgeously graphic in its portrayal of everyone's deaths. That way, you see, we get to watch everyone die twice, and in different ways! Some might groan at this, I rather liked it.
The setpieces play out, with various red-herrings in each, to keep the audience guessing as to the actual cause-of-death (for the most part, the ones you saw in the trailer were the bluffs), and teasing the audience in a way that hasn't been done since Hostel. Intermittently, 'the coroner' turns up to lay on a little exposition for Sam, who seems a bit too thick to work out what's going on. As usual, the coroner is only fucking Candyman. If that doesn't set alarm bells ringing, you probably deserve to die.
As I said above, it's nicely done (for what it is), but very standard, until the final segment... (highlight for serious spoilers)
Having survived the carnage of the previous 85 minutes and believing themselves safe, Sam and his girlfriend board a plane to travel to Paris, where Sam has been offered an apprenticeship as a chef. We see Sam look at his tickets, dated 2000, and a commotion starts at the front of the plane as several people leave before takeoff. The presence of late nineties' style flip-phones and absence of the internet suddenly makes sense to the audience.
It turns out that this plane is the one that explodes at the start of Final Destination, and Sam's adventure is about to be replayed by those that have just left. We get a more detailed (Sam's POV) version of the initial air disaster that started the whole franchise eleven years ago, the reaper claims his final two victims for this film, and the whole thing comes full circle.
Yes, I worked this out when they initially boarded the plane, but I was impressed by the whole sequence. It was a great nod to the original, and if this is the Final Final Destination, a nice way to end things.
After that, we get a montage of all the series' deaths, through parts one to four, with AC/DC's 'If You Want Blood (You Got It)' over the top. The whole ending is pretty much better than the rest of the film. But within its own back-yard, this is a winner.
Although I've only seen two of these, I reckon this is about as good as any of them (if you get my drift). If you liked the others (and the genre in general), you should emjoy it. If you're not into watching teenagers get sliced and diced, then you probably won't be viewing it anyway.
It's mostly a steady 4/7, but the ending notches it up to a 5.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
"I believe the younglings are our future,
Teach them well and let them lead the way."
It's not very often I get paraphrase a Whitney Houston song as a lead-in, and it's even rarer that I mean it. I'm going to try and keep this post positive, but for reasons which will become apparent, it'll get a bit dicey.
It may sound like a rant, but I assure you it's not.
At the pub the other week, a few of us were having a general geek conversation, which inevitably led round to Star Wars. Now, I hesitate to call myself an authority on the subject*i, but I do know more than your average civilian about it. The forthcoming live-action TV series was mentioned (not by me), and I gave a brief roundup of the information we know so far;
• It's set in between Eps III and IV
• It's not based around the Skywalkers
• There are about 50 hours of scripts on the shelf
• It's currently on hold until they find a way of making it at the quality they want for less money.
This led to someone else in the group asking the Second Most Stupid Question I've ever heard...
"Yes, but will it be any good?"
I'm slightly ashamed to admit that I suppressed a sigh. The person who'd asked the question is a fan of the OT, isn't a massive fan of the Special Editions, had been turned off 'new' Star Wars by the PT, and hasn't seen any of The Clone Wars animated series. None of these are crimes in themselves, of course, but there was an implied judgement in the question that set the bells ringing. Leaving aside the subjectivity around what people thought of the prequels, I don't believe that anyone sets out to make intentionally bad programming*ii. Complaining that your expectations haven't been met by a show "not being good" is a little like saying the oranges you bought at the store weren't quite orange enough. It was while I was exploring the validity of this actual question that the same person asked the First Most Stupid Question I've ever heard...
"But what about the real fans? Will they like it?"
...what do you mean by 'the real fans'?
"Y'know, the old-school fans. The ones who like the Original Trilogy."
An actual sigh this time.
I think it's a little churlish to say that I'm "a bigger fan" of Star Wars than anyone else. Other people frequently make that distinction, and I know what they mean, but when it comes to the experience of Star Wars, I can't say that I enjoy it more than other people. When the term real fan is used, you have to examine what else is implied by that. The person who raised these two astounding questions hasn't bought the PT on DVD. Or The Clone Wars. I doubt they buy Star Wars Insider Magazine every month, or any of the comics. As for the action figures, role-playing games, trading card games, video games, novels, reference books? Again, highly doubtable.
Although it sounds like it, I'm not talking about 'giving money to Lucasfilm'. I'm talking about being a regular consumer of new SW content. I'm not saying you have to hand over all your disposable income to Uncle George every month in order to be a part of the club they call "fandom", but Star Wars is constantly growing in many different forms of media. If the last thing you bought with a Star Wars logo on it was the DVD set back in 2004, you might want to ask yourself if Lucasfilm is placing you at the top of their target demographic.
In fact, to take it one step further (and in the magnificent words of The ForceCast);
if you haven't liked a Star Wars film since 1983*iii, you MAY want to reconsider your membership of "the club".
I won't (indeed, can't) deny that you're a "fan" of the movies you like, but if you've naysayed and brushed aside everything that Lucasfilm have offered you since, you probably aren't a fan of Star Wars as a whole.
When you were a kid and the saga had only just begun to unfold, think how excited you used to get when a new movie came out; when you got one of the figures; when the newsagent had the latest issue of the comic on the shelf. You immersed yourself in the GFFA and waited with bated breath for the new content... That's what the kids are doing now with The Clone Wars. It's not just for the kids, but that is who it's marketed at. Space films and the associated toys and comics, *are* aimed at the kids. I know, crazy isn't it? The only thing holding them back is a lack of disposable income.
Star Wars has always been for the kids.
That hasn't changed.
But you may well have.
Star Wars is inspiring youngsters now in exactly the same way as it did in 1977, 1980, 1983... hell, even 1999. Given how much media there is aimed at them these days, I think that's quite an achievement, don't you? Maybe it has to shout a little louder to be heard, but that's the 21st century.
So when you're browsing in Toys'R'us*iv and you see a six year old audibly gasp at a Captain Rex figure the way you did when you saw the Zuckuss one that time; stop, think, and ask yourself what the term "real fan" means.
I meant what I said earlier, that wasn't a rant. Seriously. I'm trying to bring a little positivity back to fandom.
*i - No really.
*ii - And believe me, there's plenty of TV which I think is appalling.
*iii - Or in some cases I've heard, 1980.
*iv - And, if you're like me, looking at the pegwarmers and wondering when it became acceptable to charge £9 for a single 3¾" action figure...
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Photos and videos appearing in this blog post are for informational and reference purposes only, and no ownership of copyright is claimed or implied by me. The intellectual and physical copyright of such material belongs to its creators and owners.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Pre-amble (1): Cineworld are pushing the Unlimited card quite hard at the moment, and for the first time since I've had mine (about four years), they've actually put on a pre-release exclusive screening for Unlimited card-holders. You'd think that the best way to boost sales of the card would have been to pre-screen Harry Potter, or The Inbetweeners, wouldn't you? Do you think that many people are bothered about the remake of Conan, this late into the summer season? Me neither, there were less than 15 people at tonight's showing. The preview was in 2D, but I don't think that's what was putting people off. In many respects, even the 3D version of this film will be in 2D.
Pre-amble (2): I've never been a fan of the whole sword'n'sorcery thing. I'm also not really familiar with Conan's previous iterations, either in novel, comic or movie form. Largely because, as I said, the genre doesn't bother me. In that respect, I viewed this film as blank-canvas-punter; with no baggage, but no expectations either.
The Good: Some of the matte-work in the locations and establishing shots is absolutely breathtaking. Well on-par with Lord of the Rings. The costume design is good, if a little flamboyant (considering how impractical it proves for fighting in). And the on-screen deaths are frequent, brutal and (if I'm being honest) fairly satisfying. The choreography works when the editing allows us to see what the hell's going on. Jason Momoa's pretty good as Conan, but he's not given a lot to work with.
The Bad: Where you want me to start? The dialogue which is more cumbersome than a two-handed battle sword? The magic-helmet which seems to be a crossover of The One Ring from LotR, and the Horcruxes from Harry Potter? Or the fact that so many clichés are piled on top of each other that the only thing that's original about the film is how over-done it is? Classical formula is one thing, but there is literally nothing new here. I could forgive that if this was a brains-out-entertainment fest, but it didn't even keep me engaged. Armies of people fighting all wearing brown and grey, with fast-cutting shots and desaturated colour means that for the first hour of the film, as soon as the swords come out, you don't know what the hell's happening until they go back again and Conan is left standing surrounded by bodies.
Oh, and Spudgun out of bottom is one of the baddies. Yes. Spudgun. He appears to be in there for some quasi-comedy which doesn't quite work.
The rest of it? gruff/moody hero with heart of gold, trusty sidekick, swords, firm-but-fair father, megalomaniacal villain, magical artefact, feisty heroine/love-interest, magic spells, more swords… you've seen this before. And it was better the first time. In all honesty, I could write a laundry-list of moments that grated on me, but that would involve watching the film again. Not going to happen.
The Ugly: When a film has a continuity error in its opening scene, you know you're in trouble. Conan's mother on the battlefield is filmed from two angles. The first shot has blood smeared across her teeth, whereas the second, closeup shot, hasn't. It wouldn't be a biggie if we didn't flip back to the first shot and the blood's back again. It also wouldn't be a biggie if this wasn't the first scene in the film.
Later on, when Khalar's forces are raiding Conan's ship, they arrive and board in the half-light of dawn. A shot inside the ship to show the attack begin, then we're back on-deck and it's broad daylight. Less than three minutes later, the battle's over and there's a wide-shot of the boat with the sun about an hour into the sky.
After the Credits: No fucking clue. I deserve an award for sitting through the film, I wasn't going to sit through the credits as well.
All in all: A wasted opportunity. Appalling.
Like Paris Hilton, it initially looks great, but brings absolutely nothing to the party.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Pre-amble: I like The Inbetweeners. Since I heard the rumour that the powers-that-be were making a movie of it, I've reserved judgement. I saw it last night. Let judgement commence.
On the plus side: My local cinema had two showings of this on Wednesday, and two on Thursday. All four of these sold out completely. It wasn't in the mahoosive Screen 1 or 5, but in Screen 2 which I think is around the 250 capacity mark. Filling the auditorium on Orange Wednesday isn't unknown, but to do the same on Full Price Thursday is to be commended. The good reviews and bums-on-seats that The Inbetweeners Movie is getting is great news for everybody.
That being said: …why is this on in the cinema? This isn't a film, it's a feature-length TV show (there's a massive difference, but feel free to take it to the comments if you disagree). I'm guessing there's now a generation of people who don't remember the TV>Movie adaptations of the 1970's (and/or don't ever skip past ITV3 when they're on), and therefore don't treat the very idea of TIbM with a mixture of trepidation and dread…
The Plot: Four school-leaver friends go on holiday to Malia and swear a lot. Funnier than it sounds.
The Good: If you like The Inbetweeners, it doesn't disappoint. It's got exactly the same vibe as the TV series (which is a nice way of saying it hasn't been adapted to the movie format particularly well), with a few extra swears thrown in. Actually, there are a lot of swears thrown in. Normally I'd be questioning the wisdom of this, but as the language is a) in keeping with the characters, b) in keeping with teenage boys, and c) pretty much how I speak when I'm not in polite company, I really can't complain. There are a couple of c-bombs in the film which I didn't think were that necessary, but they kind of work in context.
The Bad:TIbMis funny for the first hour or so, but then really seems to drag. I don't know if it's because the format isn't really meant to be watched for this length of time with no breaks, or maybe it's the lack of the TV series intro-music, incidental music and Will's commentary disappearing five minutes into the proceedings? Whatever the reason, there's not a lot to hold your attention after an hour of cock-jokes (and 90% of those consist of the characters saying "cock").
The Ugly: Secondary characters top-and-tail the film while the main-four (oh, and Carly) go on holiday. While they're there, they laugh, cry, bicker, and discover new things about themselves. So as adaptations go, it's like a train-crash carrying the cast of Are You Being Served, On The Buses, and Kevin and Perry Go Large, with Superbad picking throughout the wreckage. Unfortunately, the cliches don't end there, and the sub-plots of the individual characters (old and new) are so telegraphed that I was constantly reminded that this is aimed at 17yr olds. I'm not saying that 17yr old have poor taste in films, just that statistically they're less likely to find the content derivative as they have a smaller back-catalogue to refer to.
What you don't see: It occurred to me in the closing segment that the bit in the trailer where Neil is getting the tattoo, isn't in the film. By which I mean, the entire tattoo subplot isn't there. No doubt this will turn up on the DVD either as extras, or in an 'Uncut! Too rude for the cinema!' version. Where they'll also likely say "cock" a lot more.
All in all: For an episode of The Inbetweeners, it's good. For a movie, it's not. But it kept me engaged (well, for the first hour), and made a lot of people laugh a lot of the time, so it's doing something right.
Worth paying £8+ to see? Not particularly. Bear in mind that it'll be out on DVD in three months, be less than a fiver in six, and be on the telly within the year. Your choice, really.
I was going to mark this lower, but it's good for what it is, and it puts Hall Pass and Your Highness to shame. It's just not a movie.
I probably won't watch it again until I'm beered-up and doing an Inbetweeners marathon. Which is fair enough.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
I'd like to open this week's post by talking about everyone's favourite yellow-toothed speciesist*1, The Emperor.
He was referred to in ANH, shown briefly in tESB, then in RotJ, we finally got to meet him properly. He did not disappoint. He's total pantomime-villain, of course, but I suppose if you were megalomaniacal enough to seize (and sustain) rule over an entire galaxy, you'd be an exaggerated version of yourself, too. In-universe, the fact that the Empire in the OT-era consists of white, human males has been put down to the fact that he was completely xenophobic (in the literal sense), and essentially hated almost everyone except himself. Which is also debatable, I guess. Out-of-universe, it's more the fact that non-human Imperials just weren't going to be practical, given their numbers, and that the Rebels were shown to be more liberal than the Empire by recruiting more widely.
Between 1977 and 1983, he was known largely as The Emperor, whereas from 1999 (ie TPM) onwards, he's also referred to as Senator/Chancellor/Emperor Palpatine*2. That said, he has been Palps since 1977…
"the ambitious Senator Palpatine caused himself to be elected President of the Republic… Once secure in office, he declared himself The Emperor, shutting himself away from the populace."
Star Wars, by Alan Dean Foster, published 1977.
I remember the first time Frank Palpatine*3 came to my house. I'd been waiting for him for weeks. My parents had carefully written (and funded, come to think of it) the invitation, and while it was assumed he'd arrive, there was no indication of when. Then he just showed up one morning, with an absolute minimum of fuss. No card, just a small white box in a small brown envelope, and a note introducing himself.
The Imperial Forces residing in my house were pleased he was here (one of each trooper/officer. No massive battalions of troops in my house. Not back then, anyway), but none more than myself. With their leader, they finally stood a chance of winning the epic battles that took place on my bedroom floor (or the yard if it had been snowing). I'm referring, of course, to the 1983 mail-away offer for the first Emperor figure from Palitoy*4
The TV-ad says five proofs-of-purchase, while the print-ad asks for six. They're both for the US as well, so I'm not sure how many were required for the UK (five sounds about right - Look, what did I tell you, my parents cut them out). Back in those days, it wasn't the "proof of purchase" barcode form the back of the card, it was the actual name-badge from the front. Because of the card-design being consistent, this meant you could cut out names from existing cards that you happened to have kept, and you weren't tied to buying figures from the current wave (as happens these days). Then again, Boba Fett and Admiral Ackbar had already been introduced by mail-away, so fans were pretty much in the habit of keeping all the cards by then. As someone who's always been an opener, their arrival in an unmarked box didn't bother me at all.
The format wasn't just used for figures. I recall getting a "survival kit" at one point, basically consisting of weapons and backpacks for the figures. Always handy, as 8-yr olds aren't fantastic at keeping the guns (not just keeping them 'with' the figures, keeping them 'at all'). And as the waves of SW figures petered out, so too did the mail-aways. So I was more than a bit happy when they started up again with Hasbro's resurgence in 1995. Spirit-Ben from tESB and RotJ, and the B'omarr Monk from Jabba's Palace both sit proudly among my collection these days, although as figures have got more expensive*5 and the proof-of-purchases tend to be from specific figures/waves, I find myself less inclined to pay £40+ for a 'free' figure. Although I did go for the 'Crystal Skull' mail-away figure in 2008 because a) I don't care what you say, I enjoyed that film, and b) the figures were pretty heavily discounted, making it more feasible.
Another format being used in this modern age is build-a-droid, whereby you give sections of a figure away with individual characters over a wave. So with Darth Vader, you may get a protocol droid's head and torso; Han Solo will come with the left arm, R2-D2 will have his right one; C-3PO will have the bonus droid's left leg. And his right one? That will be with the figure that you wouldn't normally buy in a hundred years. That will be bundled with Captain Pegwarmer. The figure that isn't horrendous in itself, but is of a character that you're not bothered about. The character won't fit in a display with any of your others, and isn't outstanding in any way. But you want your protocol droid to have two legs, don't you? So you buy it.
That's not a rant, by the way, it's pretty much the facts of 'the way it is'. As a business-model, it's going to shift more figures, make more money, encourage complete-ism in your customers, and the retail outlets are going to be happy at having less of the pack-in figure that no-one wants. It's a good idea.
So, I love mail-aways, and I love build-a-droids. If the price of 3¾" of moulded plastic would drop to something reasonable*5, I'd love collecting Star Wars figures again, too.
Your move, Hasbro.
*1 - You can insert your own real-world jokes here. I normally would, but this particular series of posts isn't really the place.
*2 - Pre-1999, it was often pronounced "Palp-a-tyne" (even in official audiobooks), until tPM straightened the record on pronunciation with "Palp-a-teen".
*3 - Yes, his first name is Frank. As said by himself in The Phantom Menace. Listen.
*4 - Kenner in the US, Palitoy here in the UK. Made by Kenner, but the cards were branded differently.
*5 - Seriously, though. £9 ($14.60) for a figure? REALLY? They've got to be pretty good for that. Some of them are…
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Photos and videos appearing in this blog post are for informational and reference purposes only, and no ownership of copyright is claimed or implied by me. The intellectual and physical copyright of such material belongs to its creators and owners.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
I'd have thought that given director Jon Favreau's previous form on Iron Man, and that C&A has such a preposterous concept*1 at its core, the film would be a lot more lighthearted than this. Granted, the trailer wasn't a laugh-a minute either, but the movie takes itself quite seriously, which is a little jarring at first.
The opening scene has no dialogue for about a minute and a half, then moves into Daniel Craig's amnesiac Jake Lonergan killing the three bandits who are about to take him prisoner, then looting their posessions and riding into town on one of their horses. He's a badass alright, and it's only with some strategically placed people/places/props-inspired flashbacks that we learn that we're meant to be rooting for him.
So when Harrison Ford's cattle-merchant Woodrow Dollarhyde shows up to bail his no-good son out of the town jail, he's going to be the foil for the curmudgeonly Lonergan, right? Nope. He makes Daniel Craig's character look like comic-relief by comparison. The scope for lethargic wisecracks has been passed over completely here*2, but Ford still does well out of it.
Then we get Olivia Wilde as Ella Swenson, whose past is just as mysterious as Lonergan's, and doesn't come with any flashbacks, so we get her story about two thirds of the way through (and it's just as well she tells it, because you wouldn't guess it otherwise).
So far, so mismatched-characters all drawn together to try and thwart an alien invasion in Arizona in 1873. And it works pretty well in Favreau's capable hands. The plot rumbles along quite nicely, and makes relative sense (given the basis for it). I'd even go so far as to say that this would have been a very acceptable Predator prequel, and would have fit nicely into that timeline, but that wasn't to be.
Speaking of which, they aren't skimping on the aliens either. It takes a short while, but once the cherry's been popped, there are lots of them, up close and personal. We get them, their tech, and why they're here, as well as shots of the inside of their ship. It's all told from the humans' point of view, of course, so we don't get to build any sympathy for the aliens, but they are an exploratory/invading force, so there's no love lost, there.
The Good: All the principle actors; the effects-work; the score is a nice mix of classical and country, with a sprinkle of rock from time to time. Nice alien and 'mothership' design.
The Bad: Even for a 'frontier town', the initial setting feels sparsely populated. And apart from Harrison's Dollarhyde, there's not a lot of character development.
The Ugly: How did those massive aliens fit in those comparatively tiny scout-fliers? I thought they were drones until that one crashed in the river, then a nine-foot green guy popped out of the water.
After the credits: Nothing. You can leave as soon as the names come on-screen.
A Sequel? There's nothing obviously set-up, but it'd be workable, and I'd enjoy watching an expansion of this.
All in all: It's more Predator than Independence Day, but I could have done with the mood being a little lighter. I give it a six out of seven, but it's a low-six. But it's better than a five, for sure.
*1 - And I mean 'preposterous concept' in a good way, I assure you.
*1 - As has the prospect of in-jokes and nods to the actors' previous work. There's a bloody perfect opportunity for a Return of the Jedi reference at the end which isn't used. I wouldn't have been able to resist it... but that's why I'm not directing films.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
My bro-in-law was in need of a cinema-buddy, and I'm always happy to oblige. Trouble is, I said I'd post a review for every film I saw in the cinema this year, including repeat viewings.
You can read my first, second and third-pass reviews on their respective pages.
The only thing I have to add this time around:
Johann Schmidt's car. The Hydra badge has 6 tentacles.
The bonnet of the car has 6 steel handles.
The car has 6 headlights.
It's the little details like that which keep me coming back to this film. Lovely.
[EDIT:] Oh, and hang on - if Cap's shield is made from Vibranium and absorbs vibration (hence it taking bullet/energy shots etc), how come it spangs back to him after he twats people with it? Surely it shouldn't bounce off anything?
Just a thought.
[/EDIT]
Anyway, it's finished at our local flicks now, so my next viewing will be on DVD.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
I've been thinking about that Star Wars, and I made this for you...
^^ click for bigger. Opens in new window.
Up close and personal? Okay then...
You're welcome.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
If you had the chance to prove to the world that you were the wisest being in the galaxy, how would you go about it? What would you say or do to get that message over? Would you be up to the task?
What if you had two movies to do it in? Too much time? Okay, how about if you only had 23 minutes to do it in? Better? No?
Yoda seems to have managed it.
Like Darth Vader, Yoda's name has spread beyond the GFFA and into popular culture. He's become synonymous with wisdom, to the point where you can comparatively drop his name into a conversation and a lot of people will get the gist of knowledge, peace and serenity. This has been established with only 23 minutes of screen-time*1 in the Original Trilogy (granted, he's had a lot more in the prequels and in The Clone Wars, but his reputation was cemented in between 1980-83, in The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi).
What confuses his philosophical status, however, is: he's a puppet. The first three times we see him, he's a meticulously crafted bundle of rubber, fabric, wires and metal.
Yoda began his life on the drawing boards of Ralph McQuarrie and Joe Johnston, before being modelled for tESB by Stuart Freeborn. Although visually striking and unique*2 in the GFFA, George Lucas and Irvin Kershner wanted to make sure that audience expectations for the one referred to as "the Jedi Master" were sent stumbling when his identity is revealed.
"Luke has no idea what this fount of knowledge will look like and does not at first believe that the curious personage of Yoda embodies the Force. Luke's inability to recognise him must be shared by the audience."
Stuart Freeborn, interviewed on p70 of Once Upon A Galaxy: A Journal of the Making of TESB by Alan Arnold.
Yoda's job in tESB is, of course, to instruct Luke (and the audience) in the ways of the Force, expanding on the brief introduction given by Ben Kenobi in the previous film. As with ANH, we learn at the same rate Luke, and from his point of view.
"In these scenes between Yoda and Luke, the Force is best understood as something very real. We learn how it is used, where it comes from. The Jedi training program and disciplines are explained. The concept of the Force's use for good, rather than evil, is promulgated. Finally these scenes lead to a fight that is based on the disciplines these scenes with Yoda reveal"
Irvin Kershner, interviewed on p200 of Once Upon A Galaxy: A Journal of the Making of TESB by Alan Arnold.
So despite the low screen-time, once Yoda is established and demonstrated as a teacher, he effectively impacts on every scene featuring Luke that is to come. Once Skywalker leaves to help his friends on Bespin, we're seeing Luke 2.0, and the teachings of the Jedi stay with him, and us, until the final shot of spirit-Yoda on Endor.
As well as the sterling work by Frank Oz, in puppeteering and voicing Yoda, credit has to go to Mark Hamill for being such a convincing counterpart. The majority of Yoda's scenes in the OT are with Luke*3, and it's Skywalker's reactions that sell Yoda to us as much as Oz's performance.
Since his return in tPM (or more properly his AotC CGI incarnation), Yoda's scenes have still been philosophical, but way more action-based. For us old-schoolers, it's great to see the green one finally laying it down and giving Dooku a run for his money. As you'll probably know, this attitude-shift is mirrored in RotS when he turns one of Palpatine's clonetroopers into a shish kebab.
We also got to see some pre-EpIII verdant carnage in Genndy Tartakovsky's fantastic Clone Wars 2D animated series, which showed off Yoda's determination and combat-skills (largely because there wasn't a lot of room for introspection in such short episodes).
But 2005 wasn't the end of the line for our little green friend, despite his exile to Dagobah. Yoda is a regular fixture in The Clone Wars animated series, and episode 1.1 'Ambush' goes a long way to re-capturing his reflective side as he tells a group of clones how unique they are in the Force.
And still he branches out, appearing most recently in the animated Star Wars Lego: The Padawan Menace, in charge of a group of boisterous younglings on an outing. The show is firmly tongue-in-cheek, but it's the Yoda we know and love.
The great thing is, whether he's being profound, mischievous, authoritative or just kicking-ass, he never breaks character. All of these aspects go to make up Yoda, and in that respect, he arguably better developed than many other figures in the saga.
I've already written about the effect that Yoda's death-scene had on me as a child, and while I don't tear-up these days, it's still a sobering scene. Again, it's Mark Hamill's acting that gives weight to what's unfolding. Otherwise it'd just be a puppet going to bed.
"There is a strong emotional effect of saying goodbye to this creature. Not only is Luke saying goodbye to Yoda, but the audience is saying goodbye to him. It's kind of sad because you like him. He's an extraordinary man. To me, Yoda is a Zen master."
Irvin Kershner, interviewed on p232 of The Making of TESB by J.W. Rinzler.
Yoda is a part of current popular culture, and yet his is the wisdom of the ages. They may have become soundbites, but carry his words with you and ask yourself: What would Yoda do?
Do. Or do not. There is no try.
*1 - 17½ minutes in tESB, and 5½ minutes in RotJ. Incredible, isn't it? *2 - Unique until the appearance of Yaddle in tPM. But we still don't know their species. *3 - In fact, the only other actor in Yoda's scenes is Sir Alec Guinness, although they factor less, time-wise.
DISCLAIMERS: • ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Photos and videos appearing in this blog post are for informational and reference purposes only, and no ownership of copyright is claimed or implied by me. The intellectual and physical copyright of such material belongs to its creators and owners.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
RotPotA works on the tried and tested Hollywood staples of:
• Wonder-cures for important illnesses are not to be trusted
• Pharmaceutical / BioTech companies are not to be trusted
• The British CEOs of those companies are not to be trusted
• People who run animal sanctuaries are not to be trusted
• Chimps are awesome
• The best way for a virus to spread worldwide is to make the carrier an actual airline pilot
I don't need to tell you the plot if you've seen the trailer and combine it with those bullet points up there. It's a fairly straightforward setup of Man Improves Monkey / Monkey Realises Man is an Arsehole / Monkey Destroys Man.
In fact, if you've seen Jurassic Park and I am Legend, you've pretty much seen this. The story and character archetypes are fairly identikit, so what makes the movie so watchable is the performance of (most of) the principal actors. Franco, Lithgow and (of course) Serkis are all on top form. Everyone else is so-so, but that's all that's needed really.
The real star of the film is Caesar, which is to say Serkis and the team(s) of CGIers who have brought Caesar to life. With the possible exception of the super-chimp's first swing-around-the-house sequence, he (and the apes in general) are pretty flawless. Well, to my eye anyhow.
Once the action heats up, it's also notable that the apes don't actually kill that many people. They maintain the moral-highground for the whole movie, and it'll be interesting to see how they develop into the segregated species that we saw in the original PotA. In this prequel, any violence they mete out is justified by the Nasty People Who Don't Understand, and the eradication of the human race is taken care of by the Mark II Serum, which is great for chimps, and bad for humans. The final credits-sequence is pretty clumsy, given that they could have got another movie out of the plague. I'm sure they'll go for another movie anyway, but there was no real need to remind the audience that the killer-virus was on the loose.
The Good: Almost every scene with the apes in. Caesar is more engaging than many human actors I've seen this year.
The Bad: No surprises in the plot at all. It doesn't help that you know what's coming up later in the timeline, but with the presence of GenSys Pharmaceuticals, they've pulled out all the generic plot devices that you'd expect to go with it. Including...
The Ugly:David Oyelowo as evil, British company CEO Jacobs. I'm sure he can act, but it seems like he either phoned the performance in, or director Rupert Wyatt wasn't happy until he played every scene like a baddie from Mission Impossible/Resident Evil.
After the Credits: No extra scenes. There's the airport scene after the main credit-splash, but once you get to the rolling names, you can get out of there.
In and of itself, it's not outstanding, but it's worth watching for all the things they've done right.
Oh, and the film has introduced one new staple to the Hollywood canon:
• Tom Felton will now be typecast as a nasty piece for the rest of his life.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
C/A is the first film this year to get me to the flicks three times to see it.
I don't have much more to say about it, so I made you a picture instead. Is that okay?
I also had some thoughts about that scene near the end of the movie...
INT. THE RED SKULL'S JET FIGHTER. DAY.
ROGERS: Agent Carter? Is that you?
CARTER: Yes, Steve are you okay?
ROGERS: Schmidt's dead.
CARTER: ...and the plane?
ROGERS: That's not quite as simple. I'm going to have to bring her down in the sea.
CARTER: No! Steve, there's got to be another way!
ROGERS: Not with the amount of ordnance I've got on board. I'm headed straight for New York, and at the speed I'm going, there's not much time...
CARTER: Why are you headed for New York?
ROGERS: Because that's what the plane's navigational system tells me...
CARTER: But there were three big flying bombs in the hold of the plane, and one of those had "New York" painted on in big white letters, remember? If Schmidt was going to detonate that in New York, why would he fly his jet there at the same time? There'd be nothing but rubble at best, and lethal radiation at worst. Given that his jet's going to be faster than the propeller-bombs, he'd probably get there before the bomb, just in time to get blown up. And where's he going to land in New York? He's already proved that his super-jet needs a runway.
If anything, it'd make more sense for him to go to Washington, the seat of government, and try to strongarm a negotiation with the president, surely?
ROGERS: Look, never mind that, I'm putting the plane down in the sea-
CARTER: Anyway, why are you still headed to New York? Why don't you just turn the autopilot off?
ROGERS: ...the auto-
CARTER: Yes. The old-fashioned flick-switch clearly marked "Autopilot". The one that Schmidt flicked when you were having that zero-g fistfight earler. There was a close-up shot and everything.
ROGERS: Well, obviously I'm taking the jet off autopilot in order to bring it down early. Do you think I'm stupid or something?
CARTER: If the autopilot's off, then why can't you just take the plane a bit further? Go past New York and down into the midwest where it's all farmland and that.
ROGERS: Statistically, I'm still more likely to kill some people by doing that. And I'm more likely to be able to get a soft-landing by skimming into the sea, I think.
CARTER: Fair point. And you're definitely taking it down into the sea, yes?
ROGERS: Well, now you mention it, there are some ice floes directly underneath me. I might try and land on one of those?
CARTER: Looking at my map, and bearing in mind you're flying from the Austrian Alps to the West Coast of America, I'd imagine that's Canada. Although from the scene at the start of the film, I was led to believe it was the Arctic Circle. Either way, you should have plenty of time to think of another course of action.
ROGERS: Not... at... the speed... I'm... going!
CARTER: Well, that would certainly explain why a transatlantic flight seems to have taken you about eight minutes, given that we've been with you from the moment of take-off. In fact, now I mention it, where's this control-base I'm sitting in? Is it the Hydra base? Because eight-minutes ago I was in a car hanging off the edge of a runway in the Austrian Alps, and now I'm at a control console which I'm surprisingly familiar with.
ROGERS: Well if it's the Hydra base, where are all those troops that were giving it the Hi-De-Di with the Red Skull earlier? There were thousands, and only about four made it into this jet.
CARTER: Yeah, convenient isn't it? If I am at the Hydra base, it would explain why I'm able to have a radio conversation with the jet. Although it wouldn't explain why I can't track your movements and pass the co-ordinates on to Howard Stark, who'll be unable to find you when you crash.
ROGERS: Fuck it.
CARTER: Don't say 'fuck', it's a certificate 12A!
ROGERS: Erm... as I recall, Super 8's a 12A, and that's got a fuck-word in it. Just the one mind. We've had three now. Fuck. Four.
CARTER: It's all got a bit meta hasn't it? Do you think people are still keeping up?
ROGERS: I wouldn't worry about it too much, this bit won't make the final cut.
CARTER: What about the blog readers?
ROGERS: It's okay, they probably stopped back at the bit about the autopilot.
CARTER: I know I did.
ROGERS: So if I crash and freeze in the ice, am I going to see you in the future, as a teary 90yr old woman?
CARTER: I doubt it. It'd be a bit 'Goodnight Sweetheart', and we're running at 2hrs as it is.
ROGERS: Oh, okay. Anyway, I'm superhuman, and I'll almost certainly be able to survive a plane crash at this velocity. I don't even know the meaning of the word 'hubris'.
CARTER: Hmmm. So I'll see you at the Lamb & Flag, a week on Saturday, yeah?
ROGERS: Okay, then. But I'll warn you now, I can't dance when I'm sober, and I'm not going to drink the---
Static issues from the radio. Agent Carter begins to cry.
Fade to black.
...what?
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
A curious one, this. I'd heard nothing but good things about it, and probably raised my expectations too highly as a result.
As an alien flick, written/directed by J.J.Abrams and produced by Steven Spielberg, you might expect a head-on mashup of Cloverfield and E.T. It shouldn't surprise you, then, to find that it's pretty much exactly that (and I mean that as a compliment to all three films). Set in 1979, it's a fantastic snapshot of a more innocent time, with a genuine sense of wonder unfolding alongside the plot as a group of youngsters find themselves involved with a military cover-up and an alien visitor trying to get home.
There's so much to love here, including just about every aspect of the production. Even the child-actors (usually a bugbear of mine) are effortlessly great. Beautiful photography (including all that lens-flare), great scoring, naturalistic scripting, awesome effects-work...
...and yet I can't quite put my finger on why I feel there was something missing? Maybe it was because I spent a lot of time wondering what the hell was going on (even though the gradual exposition is present and correct)? Maybe it was because despite the even pacing, I felt like the film was dragging (even though it clocks in at under two hours)? Maybe it was because the tension between the two adult male leads was dragged out for the whole film then seemingly forgiven and forgotten conveniently at the end?
Or maybe, just maybe I was expecting to have more empathy with the alien? Unlike Cloverfield, we learn the how/when/why of the vistor's presence, and we also learn that he's only trying to get home (I'm not applying the gender, they say 'he' in the film), much to the chagrin of the government's armed forces who are trying to detain and (later) kill him. And for something that's like a cross between the Acklay in Attack of the Clones and a biological version of Megatron from Transformers, he's surprisingly expressive.
But it's difficult to build any sympathy with a creature who, right up to and including his final scene, is killing people. And not 'the bad men who are trying to hurt him', but just 'anyone who happens to be in the way and/or look like food'. Even as his re-assembled ship soars into the night sky in the film's final scene, the detritus of the improvised launchpad crumbles down into the street threatening to crush onlookers who have been lucky enough to make it this far. This intelligent alien doesn't really give a fuck if you live or die. He's not 'evil', he's just largely ambivalent. And you've got to hand it to Abrams, that's pretty much unexplored in the sci-fi genre, so well done there (I guess).
I felt a little of that ambivalence myself during the final scene. I was kind of relieved that the central characters survived to the end, but that was it. I felt no joy, relief or sadness at the alien finally winning/seizing his freedom.
That said, don't let my drivel put you off. This is a very well made film, and I suspect that any lack of enjoyment on my part was more down to my frame of mind at the time of viewing. Pffft. Despite the 12A cert Super 8's got in the UK, and the young protagonists, this didn't feel like a kids' film to me. Again, this works in its favour (in my book).
Oh, and the cube that Joel steals from the crash-site changes shape in his room before it makes its own escape. We learn that the material is shape-shifting, but it isn't explored why this one changed, when the ones that the government confiscates stay the same. Just a thought.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
A second time viewing for The Captain, and not much to add from my previous review. I found myself missing the 3D, knowing that those moments where the shield comes flying at the screen aren't quite as effective as before.
Regarding the geography, it was a little clearer the second time around since I wasn't (as) distracted by all the shouting and explosions. The to-ing and fro-ing between the military camp in Italy and the East End of London doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, but hey.
Also, could someone with flight-navigational experience help me out please? If you were flying from Switzerland to New York, would it be quicker to go over the Arctic Circle? I know that the curvature of the Earth means this kind of thing is frequently the case, I just don't know if it applies for this actual journey. That's the only reason I can see for The Cap crashing the Red Skull's stealth-jet where he does.
Oh, and bird-strike. I'm reliably informed that this is still an issue to this day, where a pigeon etc is drawn into a propeller and causes massive prop-damage, potential engine-damage, and in extreme cases can even bring down the craft. The Red Skull's flying bombs have a prop (and drive-shaft) so powerful if can vaporise a human, including his badass leather outfit completely, without missing a rotation. This wouldn't be an issue if The Cap didn't then fly the same craft back into the stealth-jet's damaged hull, where the props snap off and the craft came to a standstill with a minimum of fuss/destruction. It's not a biggie, I'm just saying.
As before...
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
Help me, Obi-Wan(s), you're my only hope(s).
I've got a list I'm working through, but if you have any requests then by all means ask.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
Okay, apart from these:
Right, I'm definitely done. For now. Thanks. Bye.
DISCLAIMERS: • ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
