Review: The Super Mario Bros. Movie

The Super Mario Bros. Movie
Cert: PG / 92 mins / Dir. Aaron Horvath & Michael Jelenic / Trailer

It feels distinctly odd given the perennial popularity of the character that it's taken three decades for Nintendo to go anywhere near another Mario movie, and even moreso that it feels like this has only been accelerated by Sonic's cinematic success. But here we are.

And for the very most part, The Super Mario Bros. Movie works. This time. Steering clear of live-action, this world-establishing animated affair comes from Illumination studios, penned by Matthew Fogel and directed by Aaron Horvath & Michael Jelenic. This might give a tingling impression of overcrowding, but the storyline is - without wishing to damn with faint praise - refreshingly basic. Everything is set up clearly for viewers unfamiliar with the Mario-verse, but not hammered home to the point where veterans will be rolling their eyes.

HISTORY

Setpieces give transparent nods to various iterations of the game history, and while that canon includes far more than can be effectively covered in a 92 minute film, glaring omissions are being saved for the sequel*¹. For obvious reasons, an animated movie retelling established origins does a far better job of showcasing the actual game-mechanics (both as Easter eggs and direct features) than something broader like Dungeons & Dragons. This is one of the rare occasions where a film being like watching someone playing a game is still supremely enjoyable.

On a technical level Illumination have excelled themselves, although you get the impression that Nintendo insisted on this. The texturing, lighting, physics and heavily stylised character models all look gorgeous throughout (even if there are entire sections where the film intentionally feels like a Haribo-induced migraine). The voice-work is largely solid, yet it's notable that Illumination have once again gone for recognisable credits-friendly A-listers over actual dedicated voice actors. Luckily, their enthusiasm papers over the cracks.

THE DAY

While there's plenty in here for a young audience, the judiciously retro jukebox soundtrack lets slip the film's real target audience: 30-40 something parents with disposable income. Brian Tyler's score itself doesn't fare quite so well however, by turn generic and insipid. The orchestral arrangements themselves aren't particularly strong*², and a necessary insistence on including stings and riffs from the games makes this feel more like musical fan fiction. This is the Glowing Nostalgia Market of course, and if it can't be thoroughly wrung-out for a product like Super Mario then there's no point in anything.

By this point Illumination know their strengths and weaknesses, and The Super Mario Bros. Movie is - like its central characters - small but perfectly formed. The film doesn't leave the audience with much to ponder, but then it also demands nothing more than the admission fee and an enjoyment of slapstick. I spent far too much time throughout grinning like an idiot to award the film any less than the following...

*¹ Because of course there'll be a sequel, this is a globally established character property with a nailed-on fanbase. Although the sequel won't be quite as good because the film won't have the structure of the introductions, world-building or origins-story conventions to fall back on. cf. Sonic 2. ^{[ BACK ]}

*² And I say this as a fan of Tyler's work, because I know he can certainly achieve a big sound when it's needed. ^{[ BACK ]}

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• 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.

Review: Glass

Glass (SPOILERS)
Cert: 15 / 129 mins / Dir. M. Night Shyamalan / Trailer

"There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is being a reasonably successful film writer and director who put out some strong work early in their career then dipped a bit, so that every time they release a film after this, a thousand articles are written asking if they've still 'got it' even though consistency in art is transient at best, impossible to achieve at worst and the critics aren't even after consistency anyway but instead want each film to be better than the last, which is never going to be plausible given the number and range of critical requirements. I imagine."

~ Oscar Wilde.

And so to the timely return of M. Night Shyamalan*¹, bringing us Glass, the third entry in a trilogy which only took form in the final moments of 2017's stealth tie-in, Split. That film's antagonist, Kevin 'The Horde' Crumb (James McAvoy), finds himself incarcerated in a secure hospital having been caught red-handed in kidnapping four teenage cheerleaders. He was nabbed by David 'The Overseer' Dunn (Bruce Willis) from 2000's Unbreakable, who's spent the last 19 years becoming a slightly-infamous vigilante in Philadelphia, brushing up against people in an inappropriate fashion then meting out Rorschach-style justice. But outside of office hours. And because duffing people up in the dead of night without the necessary paperwork is the police's business, Dave's been apprehended in the hospital as well.

Which only leaves Elijah 'Mr Glass' Price*² (Samuel L. Jackson), now permanently in a wheelchair due to the brittle nature of his physiology, in the slammer for engineering a train crash (among many other things) and resident in the same facility as the other two due his belief that he's a super-villain. Our authority figure in this setup is Dr. Ellie Staple (Sarah Paulson), who is more of a mind that our triumvirate of eccentrics are in fact suffering exaggerated and specific delusions of grandeur. Are they superheroes or are they just mental? That should be the tagline on the poster.

TOYS

So, Glass toys with the notion of what it means to actually be a superhero, although while Shyamalan delights in archly asking the questions, he also makes it abundantly clear that he's not prepared to commit to any answers. Landing in the same year as Fox's first X-Men movie, Unbreakable deconstructed comic book tropes fairly well considering that wasn't really a thing at the time. But in 2019, that's very much a thing, and Glass doesn't quite know how to deal with it.

The film essentially combines the cast of its predecessors, with Spencer Treat Clark returning as David's son, Joseph (now acting as 'guy in the chair' to his dad's hooded-justice act), Charlayne Woodard reprising her role as Elijah Price's mum*³ and Anya Taylor-Joy coming back from Split to even up the numbers in having each leading character paired with their 'real world' past. This feels like an attempt to give the story more gravity than it ultimately manages. And Shyamalan expects you to have watched those previous entries in the canon, because there's little-to-no concession for anyone who hasn't. Viewers taking a punt on Glass as a standalone flick are likely to spend a lot of the run-time trying to catch up through scripted inference rather than exposition*⁴.

BEL

Bruce Willis is on solid, taciturn form as Superhero Dave, pulling just the right blend of cynicism and confusion into his performance to sell the character once more. And James McAvoy is absolutely fantastic as Kevin of course, playing revolving host to around twenty distinct personalities. He's the gleefully theatrical chef who's been tasked with creating a pudding that cannot be over-egged. Although much like Split, the main thrust of James' screen-time is dedicated to Hedwig, Patricia, The Beast and Kevin himself. Other characters phase in and out, but they feel closer to a quickfire round on Whose Line Is It Anyway?. Samuel L. Jackson on the other hand, is the more interesting player here, as it feels like he's only putting in around 80%, even if the actor's part as Glass is less gung-ho than his other roles. 80% of Sam Jackson is still great fun of course, but he's noticeably reticent in this*⁵.

As a film, broadly speaking, Glass works very well. It's typical of Shyamalan's preposterous self-indulgence and definitely thinks it has more to say than it actually has, but it's a well-spun yarn nonetheless. But an audience reared on nitty-gritty comic-book detail over the last two decades has learned to read forward, as well as everyone in the room expecting a third-act reveal anyway. And it's that detail where our intrepid writer/director begins to flounder…

IC

And so to the spoilers. No highlight-to-read this time, there are just too many I'm afraid. You read that spoiler-warning at the top, this is your last chance to turn back. The thing is that Dr Ellie Staple is not all she seems. And that's meant to be a reveal as we go on. Except that it's mercilessly telegraphed from the moment she gets Dunn, Crumb and Price*⁶ into the same secure hospital.

Whereas Price is imprisoned for acts of terrorism and in the special facility for his own care due to his incredibly fragile skeleton, that kind of medical treatment doesn't come for free in America. Who's paying for his? Not revealed, not discussed, not even raised. Moreover, his mum still visits him on a fairly regular basis, so this isn't like some secret black-site where the government will torture secrets out of Price until there's nothing left. Isn't his mum suspicious about why her son is being impeccably looked after in his old age, when Pensylvania State still carries the death penalty for crimes way below the pay-grade of his own?

And then we have David, 'The Overseer'. The police have been after him for some years now, and upon his arrest (when he's taking down Kevin), Dunn is immediately transferred to the same facility. Eventually, David's son Joseph turns up to plead his dad's innocence and ask for his release. But he approaches Dr Staple on a purely moral/sympathetic level, not with any legal challenge. This implies David isn't under arrest at this point, hasn't actually been charged with anything, and also that Joseph knows this. So how has Joseph been informed of this hospital where his dad's being held, and again - who the hell does he think is paying for the treatment of someone who apparently hasn't even been diagnosed with any medical condition by the state?

So let's round out the trilogy. Casey, the young woman kidnapped by Kevin in Split, finds out that her ex-captor is being held in - yes, this same building - and just turns up on the fly to visit him, morbid curiosity mingling with Stockholm Syndrome. And obviously Ellie allows this to happen because she wants to observe the results. Hey, why not just let people in off the street to watch, while you're on? For a secret organisation that's been putting down superhumans for a millennia, you may as well have a fucking flag hanging outside saying "THEY'RE IN HERE LADS".

PHOENIX

So when the plot moves forward and Ellie finally lets David touch her hand, that's when we get an insight into her past, and it's revealed she's part of some pseudo-illuminati who hold their meetings in busy public restaurants waiting for the last civilian to finish the cheeseboard while they look at their watches. And again, when we see this it bears all the hallmarks of A Shyamalan Twist™, except that it's been the blatantly obvious solution since act I. Oh, and while we're on the subject, David is only shown up until that point of getting flashes of people's Bad Deeds™. Thieves, murderers and what have you. When he looks into Ellie's past, it's that scene in a restaurant where the waiter is pulling the blind down and she's like "Okay everybody, thanks for coming. Right…". While Ellie knows the group's work is technically unpleasant, she also believes it's necessary and right. Not 'a bad thing'. So why would it show up in Dave's psychometric burst? If this is just going off of things that Dave doesn't like personally, he could end up using his Batman-gig to go round twatting people who heat fish in the canteen microwave at work or enjoy Mrs Brown's Boys. I wouldn't argue with that.

But I digress. At the end of the day, Dave is the only one actually shown to have super-powers. "Mr. Glass" thinks he's a supervillain, but he's just got a crippling disability paired with a high IQ and no morals. Ellie's notes on him even state in huge letters "also known as Brittle Bone Disease". That's not a counter to his genius-nefariousness, just a disability. Similarly, Kevin has a multiple personality disorder, and one of the characters he projects is super-fucking-strong and great at climbing*⁷. Not like 'Spider-Man' great, he's actually clawing into the concrete to get purchase.

Early in the film, Ellie is speaking to the group trying to dissuade them of their self-imposed special status. And with Elijah and Kevin, she's absolutely right. They're don't have superpowers, they're just clinically insane. Attempts at the science of psychology in Glass come off as cack-handedly as they did in Split. Until we see someone actually performing the supernatural (ie Dunn*⁸), they are merely mundane. Batshit crazy, but mundane.

When Ellie slyly intones "we can't let them know what they are", this is (for 66% of the subjects) the lie, the part which defies logic and undercuts the rest of the film.

CONCHORDS

So despite a hinted showdown at Philadelphia's new tallest building, no one really expected a Marvel Studios-level of finale here. But it appears that the budget didn't even stretch to a group of extras gasping from a distance. And as for the coda, where Mama Glass, Overseer Jr and Mrs Beast sit in satisfied awe watching people's reactions to the wasn't-actually-deleted-aha! CCTV footage of yesterday's superhero battle, I don't think they know how viral marketing works. All that video actually is, is a fight in a hospital car park between two nutters while a bloke in a wheelchair keeps shouting "but COMICS!" until getting punched to death. By this time tomorrow they'll be in the same places, totally enraptured by a video of burping baby or a cat being surprised at its own farts.

Anyway, like I said: I quite enjoyed Glass, because I wouldn't have picked it apart in so much detail otherwise.

But seriously M. Night, if you're going to 'deconstruct' superheroes, we're going to expect to examine the pieces…

It's closest in tone to Unbreakable, even though there's far less to reveal in this chapter.



If you're a fan of the Unbreakable and Split, absolutely.



As above, yes.



Well, let's not get carried away, yeah?



The film's not getting too much critical love, so that's a possibility.



There's not.



Level 1: Mace Windu's in this.





*¹ FUN FACT: The 'M', somewhat unimaginatively, stands for 'Monsieur'. ^{[ BACK ]}

*² Mate, come on. 'The Horde', 'The Overseer' and 'Mr Glass' sound like crap wrestler names. ^{[ BACK ]}

*³ Now, Charlayne Woodard played Mrs Price (great character naming, M. Night) back in Unbreakable in the scenes where Elijah was a young boy, and again with ageing-prosthetics for when he'd grown up into Samuel L. Jackson. The prosthetics weren't great. In fact, they were pretty damned awful, but the movie was a long time ago and even off the back of The Sixth Sense's success, we don't know what the budged restrictions were for makeup. Anyway, we're here in 2019 now and Sam Jackson is 70 years old. A damn good looking 70, but there we have it. Sharlayne Woodard, the actress playing his mum in Glass, is 65. And I'd like to say she's a damn good looking 65, but I'm afraid I can't tell because the prosthetics she wears in this movie are unforgivably bad. Someone's glued lumpy foam rubber over the bottom half of her face but not the top then gone 'yeah that'll do'. It looks fucking atrocious and is an insult to the performer and the audience alike. There. I said it. ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁴ And fuck it, I'm just going to say it. Perhaps the sole exception to this verbal implication is the cameo appearance by M. Night Shyamalan. He's one of those directors who resolutely can. not. act. and so shows up in his own movies almost wearing a t-shirt of his own face with "LOOK IT'S ME!" printed underneath in 200pt Impact. Not only was his cameo in Unbreakable of the glaringly worst variety, Shyamalan also has an appearance in Glass as the same fucking character, who then talks to Superhero Dave and verbally references his cameo in the first film, practically staring at the audience as he does so. Shyamalan comes in for a lot of flak, and I think most of it is unfair. But for the love of god man, stay behind the fucking camera... ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁵ Even more oddly, he gets a "AND SAMUEL L. JACKSON" credit in the film's opening titles. The "&" is usually reserved for a smaller-role in a film by a more well-known actor, almost like a guest star, in the billing pecking-order. And yet here Jackson is, getting the '&' in a movie which is named after his own character. Bizarre. ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁶ Although our leads' superhero monikers resemble a 1970s club-circuit wrestling troupe, their street-names make them sound like a branch of chartered accountants. Fuck it, I'd be reaching for the lycra, too. ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁷ Oh, and since they're containing Kevin and The Horde (terrible name for a band) with a strobe light by the door to trigger a personality-switch every time he gets agitated, why doesn't he just summon The Beast safely at the back of his cell, then wrap his black jacket (we see him wearing this in there) around his head and charge the door? Once he's on the other side he can make a run/fight for it. Seriously, has this organisation really been doing this shit for a thousand years? Because they seem pretty dreadful at it. I think they're regretting putting Ellie in charge of regional operations.

In that bit at the end where she grandly proclaims "And now, with your permission, we can move on to the next city!", does the scene cut before someone raises their hand and asks "Hang on, are… are you the only one doing this? You've been in Philly for fucking months on this and there were only three of them. There's weird shit going down all over the world and you're here submitting purchase-recs for thousands of dollars worth of disco lights, giving them group therapy and fucking jigsaws when you could just wheel them down to the basement and inject them with floor cleaner? Are we paying you for this? Terry, are we paying her for this? Fu-u-u-u-uck…" ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁸ "Oh, but his weakness is water!" everyone goes (including Dave), "it's his Kryptonite!". That's the second time they've tried to pull that one. Apart from the fact that we see Dave punch through an industrial plastic tank while he's submerged in it (so it's clearly not affecting his super-strength too much, even if the tank is worn to begin with), 'water' is the weakness of every land-mammal on the fucking planet. Well done M. Night, you've invented drowning? ^{[ BACK ]}



DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• 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.

Review: The Secret of Marrowbone

The Secret Of Marrowbone (aka Marrowbone)
Cert: 15 / 110 mins / Dir. Sergio G. Sánchez / Trailer



After honing his gruesome quill on 2007's The Orphanage, Sergio G Sánchez's first feature-length offering is an unevenly pleasant surprise. Predominantly younger casts can be a challenge, especially in the horror genre, but George MacKay, Anya Taylor-Joy, Mia Goth and Charlie Heaton make for a formidable line-up, with the 9yr old Matthew Stagg threatening to steal their thunder at any moment.

The Secret Of Marrowbone has been slightly mis-marketed as a horror movie when it's closer in tone to a Victorian macabre thriller (the trailer is particularly disingenuous). The inevitable jump-scare sequences are efficient in their own way, but are by far the least interesting aspect of the film. But what really sells this is the aforementioned cast, often just playing off each other and the creaking, rotting sets.

Try not to dwell to long on the real-world mechanics of various plot points, though. Best approached as a ride to be enjoyed than a destination to be second-guessed, Marrowbone is a well-made film of a slightly unsatisfying story. But come for the performances and atmosphere, and you won't go home empty-handed...



This has the feel of The Others, The Awakening and the Famous Five on glue.



Yes, but you won't lose too much by watching it at home.



It is.



George MacKay and Anya Taylor-Joy are always great value for money, and continue to be so here.



Given its lukewarm reception elsewhere, that's a possibility.



There isn't.



Level 2: Anya Taylor-Joy is in this, and she was in The VVitch with Ralph 'Garmuth' Inseson and Kate 'nameless First Order monitor' Dickie.







DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• 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.

Review: Thoroughbreds

Thoroughbreds
Cert: 15 / 93 mins / Dir. Cory Finley / Trailer



As the third-entry in a recent four movie marathon, Cory Finley's Thoroughbreds was something of a wildcard. The performance-time fitted neatly into my schedule, and I'd seen the trailer once several weeks previously, although I couldn't remember much about it. With this in mind, I felt somewhat unprepared as I sat down in screen 4*¹, which is probably why I can't decide if Thoroughbreds is interestingly uneven or completely magnificent.

In an upmarket suburb of Connecticut, troubled high school student Amanda (Olivia Cooke) receives unexpected help with her coursework from the highly-strung but highly intelligent Lily (Anya Taylor-Joy). When Amanda learns that Lily's home-life is even more fraught with tension than her own, the two form a precarious bond and begin to wonder if murder might be a solution…

Well. This felt like hiding in a broom-cupboard during someone else's group therapy session, and if that idea fills you with horror then Thoroughbreds won't be for you. This is very much a performance-piece, bouncing between Olivia Cooke's oddly-detached Amanda and the concealed seething of Anya Taylor-Joy's Lily. Taylor-Joy is dependable as always, although it's great to see her again in a more dramatically-demanding part (cf). Anton Yelchin has a smaller role than the publicity-machine would perhaps suggest (his last, sadly), as low-rent potential assassin Tim, but his presence brings a more human sense of comic-uncertainty (and at times, panic) to the proceedings. He almost feels too likeable for a film which doesn't particularly want to be liked.

Cooke, on the other hand, is the pleasant surprise here. It's not inaccurate to say that I've struggled with her past performances, feeling an emotive disconnect between the actress and the camera. So when Olivia rocks up here as a character with an empathic dissociative disorder, someone incapable of feeling an emotional response to anything, even I can't explain why I suddenly found her to be more relatable than ever*². Far from being uncomprehending in her responses to people, Amanda reads emotions in others flawlessly, using them to her own advantage with the unclouded logic of someone unencumbered with guilt or even morality. Very much my kind of psychopath*³.

The mechanics of Cory Finley's story are effective, even if any twists in the road are signposted well in advance. But the heart of the film is as morally dysfunctional as its protagonists, not quite willing to endorse their behavioural breakdowns, but not flinching away from showing them anyway.

And cinematographer Lyle Vincent's lengthy 'sofa shot' in the third act, complete with its crawling zoom, is a work of art in itself. Bravo.

Thoroughbreds won't get the exposure it deserves this early in its release, but the natural home of this movie is that unnerving and unexpected surprise on the streaming service of your choice…

Heathers, To Die For, Plastic.



If you can, sure.



To rent/stream, sure. Most people won't get much out of repeat screenings.
Then again, you're not most people, right?



Let's not go mad, but everyone involved can be pleased with what they've made.



I wouldn't have thought so.



There isn't.



Level 2: Anya Taylor-Joy's in this, and she was in The VVitch with Ralph 'Garmuth' Ineson and Kate 'Hux's First Order Monitor Who Apparently Doesn't Have A Character Name Yet' Dickie. Seriously guys, she's got dialogue in The Last Jedi, Garmuth doesn't. Get her a name already…





*¹ Although I have it on good authority that this is how many people choose watch movies; just turn up at the cinema and see what's on. This seems like a borderline insane scheduling of free time, but I have to concede that as someone who keeps a blog-assisting spreadsheet, I'm very much at the other end of that particular scale... ^{[ BACK ]}

*² Although I suspect that says more about me as the audience than Cooke as the performer, admittedly... ^{[ BACK ]}

*³ Like I said, this admiration reflects upon me, I know. ^{[ BACK ]}


DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• 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.

Review: Split

Split
Cert: 15 / 117 mins / Dir. M Night Shyamalan / Trailer



Well, I hadn't actually planned on watching a comedy in my first #FilmDay of 2017. Then again, I'm fairly certain that James McAvoy and Anya Taylor-Joy hadn't planned on starring in one, either. The Saturday-afternoon audience*¹ laughed regularly throughout this over-ripe tale of teenage kidnap and mutilation. Not in outright derision, but not in a nervous breaking of the tension either. There was a core of people, youngsters in particular, who found the psychological torment genuinely funny. I found it hard to disagree.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Split is an abduction-thriller centered around an antagonist with 'split-personalities', written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan. There, that's pretty much spoiled it for you now. Sorry about that.

While I was rather entertained by this film, it lends itself to a 'blind viewing', ie one where all the audience knows beforehand is that the film is a thriller. Because the sad and unavoidable fact is, Split would actually work far better without the plot-feeding trailers. Or the plot-feeding poster. Or M. Night Shyamalan's name being on it. For a while, his attachment to a project was a badge of assurance, a qualification. But the writer's slavish adherence to upping the cinematic ante is more of a pre-emptive stumbling block (because it's not really A Twist if the entire audience is sitting waiting for one). The further Shayamalan tries to push the envelope of credibility, the more his work becomes typical of itself and more ordinary as a result.

As is increasingly the way, the modern-day Roald Dahl presents an intricately written, solidly acted and competently directed story which manages to shoot itself in the foot with a frankly laughable third-act. The handling of abuse and abduction themes is every bit as indelicate as the film's exploration of mental illness. Although to be fair, none of this should actually be taken too seriously*², so it's hardly an authority on delicate issues.

McAvoy probably does best out of the whole thing. His rapid-fire switching between three personas is like a reasonably impressive showreel for a performer who's already proved their worth and hasn't been asked to submit one. I have to assume young James took the gig for kicks rather than any professional advancement. Riding an ill-deserved shotgun is Anya Taylor Joy as Casey, who plays the progressively-undressed-kidnapped-teen better than the role deserves (and just a tip Anya, The VVitch" was a great breakout role, but after Morgan and now this, please have a word with your agent). The only other significant screen-time is allotted to Betty Buckley as Doctor Fletcher, a character who seems to exist solely to telegraph exactly what's going to happen for the rest of the film. Her character spends the first two acts spouting utter bollocks, then the third not believing what's happening despite being the authority on it. That's not character development so much as the narrative enemy of the entire movie. The film starts and continues in a very silly vein*³, albeit with a poker-straight face.

But for all my sniffiness, Split is quite good fun in its own disposable way, and you should at least get a laugh out of it.

I myself snorted at more than a few lines of dialogue. And I must confess that I heartily guffawed in the film's final scene, if only for how long the camera lingers on what should have been a half-second 'was that what I thought it was? punchline. Better still, the aforementioned comedy-crowd audience remained largely silent at this moment, although I suspect that's down to them being too young (despite gaining admittance to this 15-cert) to actually get the joke.

Because it's framed as a teaser, but rest assured it's more of a joke…

The director's body of work.
This is definitely one for the fans.



If you have nothing better to do on a Saturday night, sure.
It doesn't need it, though.



It achieves what the audience will require of it, if that counts?



No.



No.



I think I heard one buried in the final dramatic sequence, but I'm not going to watch the film again to find out so no.



Level 2: That James McAvoy's in this, and he was in X-Men: Apocalypse alongside Rose 'Dormé' Byrne and Oscar 'Dameron' Isaac.





*¹ As with today's other marketer's profiling-assault, the trailers running in front of Split were for Logan, Rings, T2 Trainspotting, John Wick Chaper 2 and Get Out. Four out of those five are sequels, suggesting that Universal has relatively low expectations of Split's target-audience's expectations.

*² Unless of course you work in the mental-health or social-care sectors, in which case you're probably already used to face-palming yourself into oblivion every time a new 'schizophrenia' movie is produced, anyway. Although credit where it's due, this movie (iirc) doesn't actually employ the S-word in its script. Although with a story as lurid as this one, it doesn't have to..

*³ Example of random stupidity: When the central character uses brute-force to escape from a bolted-shut store cupboard, the locking mechanism would splinter away from the wooden door and frame long before the metal bolt would bend - as seen in the film. Unless he also has the power to super-heat metal without setting fire to the surrounding material and the film forgot to mention that. It wouldn't surprise me, to be honest.


DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• 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.