Sounds like it's not as good as Splash, but better than Splash, Too.
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[Film] Film 2015
- Thread starter vegster
- Start date
Sounds like it's not as good as Splash, but better than Splash, Too.
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
I hope you don't mind, but I'll try to remember to grade them all when it's over, and out of 11.6.
The Martian
Requires very little effort, there's minimal character development, I didn't much care what happened to anyone, it looks nice, it's long but didn't drag although it didn't have much to say, I doubt I will think about it much ever again and would hesitate to reccomend it.
However I was knackered and it entertained me & provided some undemanding escapism + the smaller people I took loved it so job done.
Requires very little effort, there's minimal character development, I didn't much care what happened to anyone, it looks nice, it's long but didn't drag although it didn't have much to say, I doubt I will think about it much ever again and would hesitate to reccomend it.
However I was knackered and it entertained me & provided some undemanding escapism + the smaller people I took loved it so job done.
11.38 is preferable
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
Right, i am at cinema collapse point now and have to try and remember what i've seen the last few days, and certainly in the order i've seen them - which i wonder if is at all necessary to anyone but me.
The Assassin - at the end of it, a few of us met and asked each other whether we knew precisely what happened. Bepuzzlement was our general feeling. The narrative of it wasn't greatly clear, this "tale" of a master 7th century assassin sent to prove herself to her master by killing the person she loved the most, but the aesthetics were astonishing. Truly incredible to watch if you didn't have a constant desire for perfect sense or direct progress. I liked watching it, and not for the very few brawls. Beautiful to observe.
Evolution was next, and i'd become a bit weary, which wasn't its fault at all. The pace was measured and the mystery of this volcanic-sanded island and its partly cloned mothers and sons was intriguing. As the secrets slowly get revealed of the make-up of these people and their relationship to water the creepiness of it all becomes more disturbing and the horror of the piece stands out. I might watch it again one time in a less tired state of mind. Some shots still hauntingly stick in my mind.
To fight the weariness, i thought i would disappear into a local Cineworld and not mind staying awake so much. Ok, that may seem rude considering the subject, equality, but i rather thought, correctly, that Suffragette would deal with a necessary topic and story, but in a slightly bland and standard way. I dropped off for no more than 70 seconds, but it felt good. Of the film, i have wondered since how Meryl Streep was on so many interviews of a film she was in for about 18 seconds. Big names sell products, and i suppose messages, yes, but i felt for the others - Mulligan, Bonham-Carter, Anne Marie-Duff - for taking a backseat in what they put so much more into. Saying that, it was averagely handled, but good for moments of sleep value.
Last of that day - Tuesday i think it was - was Arabian Nights Volume 2. I'd loved Volume 1, but this went into a less part-documentary mode and delivered a few stories with wit and interest but less striking. A fascinating watch though, maybe a little down to the enthrallment still lingering from Volume 1. So many ideas from the director, Miguel Gomes, and i am looking forward to what he does next.
Wednesday began with a film that has supposedly got a lot of buzz around it and there was a whoop-factor in parts of the audience, and certainly with the presenter. The film was The Witch and was a good enough horror show. I particularly liked a fierce goat called Black Philip. It's set in 17th century America and a family, played with Yorkshire tongue by British actors, of religious purists leave a town to start out on their own, farming on dreary land on the outskirts of a forest. The lingo is that of the time, and mostly understood, and what's spoken of mostly is an adoration for Him upstairs. Faith is tested, as is the family bond, when the baby of their kin is snatched by what we see to be a witchly creature. The following chills and grotesqueries make it a good watch, along with the performances, but i didn't deem it worthy of enormous celebration. The music within it was too horror-style ordinary, and the terror was over-switched between the forest itself, the witch and satan. Pretty good though.
Chronic was next. It was a wannabe Haneke film in which the intensely creepy Tim Roth goes about his daily job of nursing the elderly in a warm American city, but becoming closer to them than he ought to be. Scrubbing nude old people passionately was meant to perturb, and it did a little, but the design of each shot was unimaginatively done and it had it feel not as dryly chilling as it hoped to be. The ending was a shocker, but you half-feel that maybe they all came to agree this was how to close because there was nowhere else to go with the film. Most horrific for me whilst watching was the very old dame sat next to me, who devoured a ginormous box of popcorn, quite scrapily, and then flattened the box to drum on it for about 28 minutes with both her index fingers. I was obviously a bit tired again and ratty.
Arabian Nights Volume 3. An overall very good 6 and a bit hours of film about Portugal, but this one had me a bit knackered in places. Its one lengthy subject, back in drama-documentary mode, was that of bird-tapping and entering chaffinches in competition to sing out the most tunes. An interesting enough subject, but it went on. The music here and there through the film, and particularly at the end, was excellent. Will think about it some other time as to whether it's worth going to this part for any kind of conclusion to all that was so strikingly seen in Volume 1.
Raced up, thankfully without a drop of rain near me, to end the day with The Green Room. I rather liked Blue Ruin last year, and this was the director's next one. He did it as an ode to punk music and the friends and musicians he used to hang around with, making an ultra-violent film that they would liked to have seen in the mid-90s (this is what he said in the q&a after). It was ok. It was basically a siege movie in which a punk band accidentally stumble into some murderous wrong-doings by some nazi punks and have to fight their way out. Yet again in this festival, dogs die. Some of the ones in this one deserve it. Dark fun, but didn't have me wholly on board. Wonder what the director will do next and hope he builds from Blue Ruin.
So, now we're onto yesterday. Cate Blanchett is a brilliant actress. This time around she stars in and as Carol, a film by Todd Haynes, who i loved watching with Far From Heaven. Again it was the 1950s, and with a touch of Douglas Sirk influence, about a restrictive a punishing society for anyone not white or heterosexual. It's a world of the merest of touches and glances for the rather rich, and officially married, Carol, and for Rooney Mara as the young department store clerk, to subtly broadcast their emotions to one another. The camera hangs on these meagre affections and both actors capably grasp and emit the tensions their desires painfully now bring to them. Mara's character is a slightly blank canvass, but is deliberately so as she looks to gradually gain a sense of true self. Blanchett is captivating and aided by an amazing score. Really good stuff, i thought.
And lastly, Truman, the story of two friends brought back together in Madrid by the impending death of one of them, played by the ever-watchable Ricardo Darin. There's a bit of light humour to it, but it's tough to make a film too cheery over the demise of a chap's life to cancer. Still, it had its moments, pretty much all involving Darin.
The Assassin - at the end of it, a few of us met and asked each other whether we knew precisely what happened. Bepuzzlement was our general feeling. The narrative of it wasn't greatly clear, this "tale" of a master 7th century assassin sent to prove herself to her master by killing the person she loved the most, but the aesthetics were astonishing. Truly incredible to watch if you didn't have a constant desire for perfect sense or direct progress. I liked watching it, and not for the very few brawls. Beautiful to observe.
Evolution was next, and i'd become a bit weary, which wasn't its fault at all. The pace was measured and the mystery of this volcanic-sanded island and its partly cloned mothers and sons was intriguing. As the secrets slowly get revealed of the make-up of these people and their relationship to water the creepiness of it all becomes more disturbing and the horror of the piece stands out. I might watch it again one time in a less tired state of mind. Some shots still hauntingly stick in my mind.
To fight the weariness, i thought i would disappear into a local Cineworld and not mind staying awake so much. Ok, that may seem rude considering the subject, equality, but i rather thought, correctly, that Suffragette would deal with a necessary topic and story, but in a slightly bland and standard way. I dropped off for no more than 70 seconds, but it felt good. Of the film, i have wondered since how Meryl Streep was on so many interviews of a film she was in for about 18 seconds. Big names sell products, and i suppose messages, yes, but i felt for the others - Mulligan, Bonham-Carter, Anne Marie-Duff - for taking a backseat in what they put so much more into. Saying that, it was averagely handled, but good for moments of sleep value.
Last of that day - Tuesday i think it was - was Arabian Nights Volume 2. I'd loved Volume 1, but this went into a less part-documentary mode and delivered a few stories with wit and interest but less striking. A fascinating watch though, maybe a little down to the enthrallment still lingering from Volume 1. So many ideas from the director, Miguel Gomes, and i am looking forward to what he does next.
Wednesday began with a film that has supposedly got a lot of buzz around it and there was a whoop-factor in parts of the audience, and certainly with the presenter. The film was The Witch and was a good enough horror show. I particularly liked a fierce goat called Black Philip. It's set in 17th century America and a family, played with Yorkshire tongue by British actors, of religious purists leave a town to start out on their own, farming on dreary land on the outskirts of a forest. The lingo is that of the time, and mostly understood, and what's spoken of mostly is an adoration for Him upstairs. Faith is tested, as is the family bond, when the baby of their kin is snatched by what we see to be a witchly creature. The following chills and grotesqueries make it a good watch, along with the performances, but i didn't deem it worthy of enormous celebration. The music within it was too horror-style ordinary, and the terror was over-switched between the forest itself, the witch and satan. Pretty good though.
Chronic was next. It was a wannabe Haneke film in which the intensely creepy Tim Roth goes about his daily job of nursing the elderly in a warm American city, but becoming closer to them than he ought to be. Scrubbing nude old people passionately was meant to perturb, and it did a little, but the design of each shot was unimaginatively done and it had it feel not as dryly chilling as it hoped to be. The ending was a shocker, but you half-feel that maybe they all came to agree this was how to close because there was nowhere else to go with the film. Most horrific for me whilst watching was the very old dame sat next to me, who devoured a ginormous box of popcorn, quite scrapily, and then flattened the box to drum on it for about 28 minutes with both her index fingers. I was obviously a bit tired again and ratty.
Arabian Nights Volume 3. An overall very good 6 and a bit hours of film about Portugal, but this one had me a bit knackered in places. Its one lengthy subject, back in drama-documentary mode, was that of bird-tapping and entering chaffinches in competition to sing out the most tunes. An interesting enough subject, but it went on. The music here and there through the film, and particularly at the end, was excellent. Will think about it some other time as to whether it's worth going to this part for any kind of conclusion to all that was so strikingly seen in Volume 1.
Raced up, thankfully without a drop of rain near me, to end the day with The Green Room. I rather liked Blue Ruin last year, and this was the director's next one. He did it as an ode to punk music and the friends and musicians he used to hang around with, making an ultra-violent film that they would liked to have seen in the mid-90s (this is what he said in the q&a after). It was ok. It was basically a siege movie in which a punk band accidentally stumble into some murderous wrong-doings by some nazi punks and have to fight their way out. Yet again in this festival, dogs die. Some of the ones in this one deserve it. Dark fun, but didn't have me wholly on board. Wonder what the director will do next and hope he builds from Blue Ruin.
So, now we're onto yesterday. Cate Blanchett is a brilliant actress. This time around she stars in and as Carol, a film by Todd Haynes, who i loved watching with Far From Heaven. Again it was the 1950s, and with a touch of Douglas Sirk influence, about a restrictive a punishing society for anyone not white or heterosexual. It's a world of the merest of touches and glances for the rather rich, and officially married, Carol, and for Rooney Mara as the young department store clerk, to subtly broadcast their emotions to one another. The camera hangs on these meagre affections and both actors capably grasp and emit the tensions their desires painfully now bring to them. Mara's character is a slightly blank canvass, but is deliberately so as she looks to gradually gain a sense of true self. Blanchett is captivating and aided by an amazing score. Really good stuff, i thought.
And lastly, Truman, the story of two friends brought back together in Madrid by the impending death of one of them, played by the ever-watchable Ricardo Darin. There's a bit of light humour to it, but it's tough to make a film too cheery over the demise of a chap's life to cancer. Still, it had its moments, pretty much all involving Darin.
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
My penultimate multi-cinematic ramblings of the year to the un-or mistakenly-interested.
It began with Krisha, a film shot in 9 days, pretty much all with family members as the cast. Opened with an 8-minute take of Krisha arriving, with part of her dress trapped in the door of her car, and then erroneously looking to call on the family gathering, ringing on the door of the wrong house and then trampling muddily through the garden to next door. She mutters as she goes and gives us an idea immediately of being a not often visitor and, in her dress sense also, of being a little unfitting to this well-to-do suburb that she stumbles around in. The door opens and she's welcomed by her younger sister warmly into a house full of friendly chatter and playful sibling tussles. Krisha, in her 60s, doesn't quite blend in, even hugged tensely out of obligation by her son. What then unfolds is little nuggets of Krisha's past and position as sister, aunt and mother in the family, and how for the key family members, she remains unforgiven and untrusted. Along with that comes quite a bit of comical banter, particularly from one guy who is very funny, and a score of noises and only different rhythms that goes along with Krisha's fragile and anxious thoughts. I thought it pretty good and well-handled, blending well the realism of a big family get together and the chaos that Krisha's character and past bring to things. Interesting as well about it being this 9 day shoot from a filmmaker looking to make a name for himself with something personal. Good acting from amateurs too.
Second of the day was The Purple Button. I'd gotten to the point where i couldn't even remember the title of the films i was to see, let alone what they might be about. I was quite thrilled about this one i realised what it was. From the maker of the beautiful Nostalgia for the Light, it concerns water and its place in our world and selves, particularly in and around Chile, a country in which the director says is mostly filled with people fearful of water and trapped in by the Andes. After a while we're taken down to Western Patagonia, little islands of mountain tips through the chilled Pacific ocean. Tribes lived uninterrupted there, travelling in their hundreds by sea, until it was colonized and their heritage of being clothesless people with beautiful paintings all over their bodies brushed to one side. Now only 20 or so members of the tribe remain alive and only a couple were willing to talk. One is asked to reminisce in their original language, and does so. She is asked afterwards "What is the word for god?" "We didn't have one." What is the world for police?" "We didn't have one."
The documentary then moves on to water's role in the storing of bodies throw into the ocean by helicopter during the Pinochet regime.
Ok it doesn't sound fun, but it was informative and gently told for the most part, whilst images of the power and beauty of water ripple through.
The q&a had one man speak of his feelings toward Margaret Thatcher and how some people in the audience should feel guilty over her rule, to which the presenter replied that he was certainly no Thatcher voter, and each following enquirer to the director opened their question with the same statement. The director was a wonderfully peaceful man who it was nice to be in the company of and relish the filmmaking of.
Last of the day was the new Jacques Audiard film. I'd marvelled at Un Prophet a few years ago and thought Rust and Bone wasn't bad, so for this i had high expectations. Maybe moreso for it winning at Cannes. The film is Dheepan and kicks off with Dheepan being injured in battle as a fairly leading member of the Tamil Tigers. He decides he wants out and wants to leave Sri Lanka. In order to do so he needs someone else's passport, and also to find others who will pose as a family with him. His "wife" scours around campsites to find an orphan of the age of 9 who will complete the image of the ruse. With this little team, they can now travel to France. Much of the rest of the film is how they then settle and appear as a family still. The drama is highly added to as to where they are placed, which is in the roughest estate or project, governed by criminal gangs. Dheepan is the caretaker in the estate and his "wife" becomes a carer for the disabled relative of a criminal bigwig. Of course, fitting in and quietly getting with their jobs, whilst barely understanding a word of what's said, does not allow them to bury the people that they were. This causes quite a twist in style from the social realism that is the genre of the drama for much of it and do so explosively.
In the q&a a woman began to weep, saying that she was enormously moved by it all, but i didn't quite feel it to that level. It was good, certainly, with the camerawork composed and the acting from the Sri Lankans very good, but i felt the criminals and the almost The-Raid-like setting were stereotypical and a tad absurd, robbing the film of its potency and authenticity. Still, a good feature that doesn't fail to grip and the last part has a wow factor to it.
It began with Krisha, a film shot in 9 days, pretty much all with family members as the cast. Opened with an 8-minute take of Krisha arriving, with part of her dress trapped in the door of her car, and then erroneously looking to call on the family gathering, ringing on the door of the wrong house and then trampling muddily through the garden to next door. She mutters as she goes and gives us an idea immediately of being a not often visitor and, in her dress sense also, of being a little unfitting to this well-to-do suburb that she stumbles around in. The door opens and she's welcomed by her younger sister warmly into a house full of friendly chatter and playful sibling tussles. Krisha, in her 60s, doesn't quite blend in, even hugged tensely out of obligation by her son. What then unfolds is little nuggets of Krisha's past and position as sister, aunt and mother in the family, and how for the key family members, she remains unforgiven and untrusted. Along with that comes quite a bit of comical banter, particularly from one guy who is very funny, and a score of noises and only different rhythms that goes along with Krisha's fragile and anxious thoughts. I thought it pretty good and well-handled, blending well the realism of a big family get together and the chaos that Krisha's character and past bring to things. Interesting as well about it being this 9 day shoot from a filmmaker looking to make a name for himself with something personal. Good acting from amateurs too.
Second of the day was The Purple Button. I'd gotten to the point where i couldn't even remember the title of the films i was to see, let alone what they might be about. I was quite thrilled about this one i realised what it was. From the maker of the beautiful Nostalgia for the Light, it concerns water and its place in our world and selves, particularly in and around Chile, a country in which the director says is mostly filled with people fearful of water and trapped in by the Andes. After a while we're taken down to Western Patagonia, little islands of mountain tips through the chilled Pacific ocean. Tribes lived uninterrupted there, travelling in their hundreds by sea, until it was colonized and their heritage of being clothesless people with beautiful paintings all over their bodies brushed to one side. Now only 20 or so members of the tribe remain alive and only a couple were willing to talk. One is asked to reminisce in their original language, and does so. She is asked afterwards "What is the word for god?" "We didn't have one." What is the world for police?" "We didn't have one."
The documentary then moves on to water's role in the storing of bodies throw into the ocean by helicopter during the Pinochet regime.
Ok it doesn't sound fun, but it was informative and gently told for the most part, whilst images of the power and beauty of water ripple through.
The q&a had one man speak of his feelings toward Margaret Thatcher and how some people in the audience should feel guilty over her rule, to which the presenter replied that he was certainly no Thatcher voter, and each following enquirer to the director opened their question with the same statement. The director was a wonderfully peaceful man who it was nice to be in the company of and relish the filmmaking of.
Last of the day was the new Jacques Audiard film. I'd marvelled at Un Prophet a few years ago and thought Rust and Bone wasn't bad, so for this i had high expectations. Maybe moreso for it winning at Cannes. The film is Dheepan and kicks off with Dheepan being injured in battle as a fairly leading member of the Tamil Tigers. He decides he wants out and wants to leave Sri Lanka. In order to do so he needs someone else's passport, and also to find others who will pose as a family with him. His "wife" scours around campsites to find an orphan of the age of 9 who will complete the image of the ruse. With this little team, they can now travel to France. Much of the rest of the film is how they then settle and appear as a family still. The drama is highly added to as to where they are placed, which is in the roughest estate or project, governed by criminal gangs. Dheepan is the caretaker in the estate and his "wife" becomes a carer for the disabled relative of a criminal bigwig. Of course, fitting in and quietly getting with their jobs, whilst barely understanding a word of what's said, does not allow them to bury the people that they were. This causes quite a twist in style from the social realism that is the genre of the drama for much of it and do so explosively.
In the q&a a woman began to weep, saying that she was enormously moved by it all, but i didn't quite feel it to that level. It was good, certainly, with the camerawork composed and the acting from the Sri Lankans very good, but i felt the criminals and the almost The-Raid-like setting were stereotypical and a tad absurd, robbing the film of its potency and authenticity. Still, a good feature that doesn't fail to grip and the last part has a wow factor to it.
Barry Izbak
U.T.A.
Suffragette - Brighton Odeon - Sunday night
I was looking forward to this. Period drama, you know based on a true story, all star cast and all.
What a disappointment. I can't think of a single thing to say about it that was positive.
Except perhaps that it was mercifully less than two hours long.
3/10
I was looking forward to this. Period drama, you know based on a true story, all star cast and all.
What a disappointment. I can't think of a single thing to say about it that was positive.
Except perhaps that it was mercifully less than two hours long.
3/10
looney
Banned
- Jul 7, 2003
- 15,652
The Martian
Over hyped and over rated. Although watchable goes from mundane to the absurd. Heavily dependent on dialogue, especially monologue. If the script writer had lacked a witty repartee this would have tanked bigtime.
Although I have been lucky and not seen any real bad films this year the martian would be in the running for my turkey of the year.
Over hyped and over rated. Although watchable goes from mundane to the absurd. Heavily dependent on dialogue, especially monologue. If the script writer had lacked a witty repartee this would have tanked bigtime.
Although I have been lucky and not seen any real bad films this year the martian would be in the running for my turkey of the year.
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
Right then, that's it, and what a way to go. The daylight hours were fairly boring, but the illogical madness and mania of Yakuza Apocalypse made it very much alright.
My friend asked me to get him some tickets when they became available, so i decided to and to join him for his selections. He loves America - not what it stands for now and the state that it is in, but is fascinated by it and its cultural productivity musically, televisually, work from their great writers and also with film. So, he opted for around 5 films, all but 1 of them from the U S of A. I said after today's fare that i wouldn't go along with him quite so much next year. It's not that i dislike American film on the whole, in spite of the fact that cinema there is largely repetitive and vapid whilst real drama and the actors who rejoice in the sometime challenging have gone over to tv, and 1 of his 4 yankee doodle dandies was one of my favourites - Carol. Today though, i sat through the painfully earnest Truth which, despite the story being one that should very much lean to my liberal political tendencies, at times is just tv movie standard. I expect more from Cate Blanchett, and even from Dennis Quaid. And James Vanderbilt, apparently the screenplay writer for Zodiac, ought to be a tad red-faced for this as a debut. Pants.
Again, i had a big gap between films, so went in to Cineworld for another watch/nap accompanied by the average. It was The Program this time. I was shocked and completely in the dark over the nefarious acts of Lance Armstrong. Natch. One might think this could be a character study of the one-balled cycling legend, but i am not sure how painting the picture of him as a glory-hunting cheat is creating a new or in-depth portrait. Alright, i did fall asleep for a couple of minutes and in that time there may have been the secret to it all, but i doubt it. Ben Foster, who can only play mentally troubled and out there characters, has his usual blend of troubled and hammy in playing Armstrong. Chris O'Dowd is unconvincing as the journalist from almost day 1 that suspects him. Wasn't terrible, but not up to much.
And finally, Yakuza Apocalypse. I have no idea who funds Takashi Miike, but i thank them for ending the festival for me in such a way. Tis a narrative nonsense that one is best not to go along and expect to, or want to, understand the bits of. I was wrong after watching the trailer to presume that the chap in the cheap frog outfit was a vampire gangster concealing himself from the sun. It was in fact a guy known as the world's most dangerous terrorist, and can murder with a stare. His kung fu skills ain't bad, but he only turns up about halfway through, when he is announced by the rival gangster, who has froggy hands and a sharp beak protruding from his mouth. By that point, it's all completely nutty, and only gets stranger and stranger, whilst remaining bloody. Some bits had me in stitches, i presume deliberately, and it was a warm relief from the search for misery that i was comfortably in throughout the festival. I give it a loony 8.
My friend asked me to get him some tickets when they became available, so i decided to and to join him for his selections. He loves America - not what it stands for now and the state that it is in, but is fascinated by it and its cultural productivity musically, televisually, work from their great writers and also with film. So, he opted for around 5 films, all but 1 of them from the U S of A. I said after today's fare that i wouldn't go along with him quite so much next year. It's not that i dislike American film on the whole, in spite of the fact that cinema there is largely repetitive and vapid whilst real drama and the actors who rejoice in the sometime challenging have gone over to tv, and 1 of his 4 yankee doodle dandies was one of my favourites - Carol. Today though, i sat through the painfully earnest Truth which, despite the story being one that should very much lean to my liberal political tendencies, at times is just tv movie standard. I expect more from Cate Blanchett, and even from Dennis Quaid. And James Vanderbilt, apparently the screenplay writer for Zodiac, ought to be a tad red-faced for this as a debut. Pants.
Again, i had a big gap between films, so went in to Cineworld for another watch/nap accompanied by the average. It was The Program this time. I was shocked and completely in the dark over the nefarious acts of Lance Armstrong. Natch. One might think this could be a character study of the one-balled cycling legend, but i am not sure how painting the picture of him as a glory-hunting cheat is creating a new or in-depth portrait. Alright, i did fall asleep for a couple of minutes and in that time there may have been the secret to it all, but i doubt it. Ben Foster, who can only play mentally troubled and out there characters, has his usual blend of troubled and hammy in playing Armstrong. Chris O'Dowd is unconvincing as the journalist from almost day 1 that suspects him. Wasn't terrible, but not up to much.
And finally, Yakuza Apocalypse. I have no idea who funds Takashi Miike, but i thank them for ending the festival for me in such a way. Tis a narrative nonsense that one is best not to go along and expect to, or want to, understand the bits of. I was wrong after watching the trailer to presume that the chap in the cheap frog outfit was a vampire gangster concealing himself from the sun. It was in fact a guy known as the world's most dangerous terrorist, and can murder with a stare. His kung fu skills ain't bad, but he only turns up about halfway through, when he is announced by the rival gangster, who has froggy hands and a sharp beak protruding from his mouth. By that point, it's all completely nutty, and only gets stranger and stranger, whilst remaining bloody. Some bits had me in stitches, i presume deliberately, and it was a warm relief from the search for misery that i was comfortably in throughout the festival. I give it a loony 8.
CorgiRegisteredFriend
Well-known member
Not seen the film but the book was absurd enough. Can easily imagine a film version being worse.
Interesting. I like Takashi Miike. Makes totally bonkers films like The Happiness of the Katakuris. I shall definitely check this one out.
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
When I went to see The Skin I Live In, that Almodovar film, a few years ago, the selection of Spaniards watching it at the same time were quite tickled throughout, whilst I saw no humour in it whatsoever. I wonder if the likes of Takashi makes innumerous in-jokes that only those from Japan would get. Or if he's just a complete loon with enough of a reputation from Audition and Ichi to get funding for whatever he fancies, a few times a year, the investor aware of the gamble.
looney
Banned
- Jul 7, 2003
- 15,652
The thing is my opinion is a sample of one. Ive found online critics to be pretencious tosspots, namely in the Grauniad, torygraph and indipendent. And there comments section is full of clueless halfwits, i would add Rotten Tomatoes as well.
I would make a couple of points that are worth remembering.
1.Films out now are the ones that were considered not good enough for summer release, especially cert 12 and under.
2. Films should stand alone and not be compared to the book, or worse where the book is a pre-requisit to understanding or enjoying the film.
This is what the pricks who pass as film critics tend to forget. The criteria is did the film entertain?
As I said it was watchablebut thats my opinion. I'm planning to watch the latest Vin Diesal effort later this week so may have a good old rant about that.(Witch hunter)?
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
I won't look to dip in to the Spectre-mostly-loving thread and muddy it with my opinion, but it was a film i saw this evening, and felt quite a bit of pity for. It was one of those films that you felt the standard ingredients - reasonably acclaimed European actor as malicious villian, women idiotically throwing themselves at charmless middle-aged bounder, some sort of sports car to **** over, well-choreographed and vastly explosive set pieces made to dazzle the eye - were there, but they seemed to be made by different people with a sudden deadline approaching and one editor having just a few days to shove it all together and hope for the best. The opening credits were really really bad, along with the theme tune, and it set the tone for what followed of a makeshift and rushed-through production. The set pieces were big and ok, but the feel of it all was witless and filled with the Bond stereotypes and drab dialogue that i suppose they hoped they'd left behind with certain Roger Moore flicks. The pity i feel is for a few actors, and even for the director, who i don't think will feel greatly proud of this one. I didn't enjoy it much.
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
All sorts of matters can deter me from seeing a film - Hanks AND Spielberg together again in the trailer I saw yesterday made me wince with non-seeing, but probably will in the end, intent - and with Brooklyn it was in part the poster, and the image to sell it that I saw in the film festival booklet, that had me errghmm it a bit. I read of the film's feel and intentions incorrectly from that misguided first impression though, as I rather quite liked the film. From the festival I had very much liked Carol, by Todd Haynes, and a couple of years ago loved Like Father Like Son, by Hirokazu Koreeda. I mention both of these because of Carol being set in the 1950s in America, as Brooklyn somewhat is, of course with such a title and it not being a Beckham son biopic, and of the young female coming of age, and Like Father Like Son because of a similarly breezy and slightly reserved tone to it that grips you all the more that it goes along without explosion. It doesn't match either, but it was a slowly and growingly absorbing watch, probably tripled in goodness by Saoirse Ronan as Eilis, the young lady from smalltown Ireland, where everyone knows each other and each other's business, being sent off to find a new life in Brooklyn, a place too large and peopled to ever conquer. Very little of it is daring or revelatory, but the subtle and searing performance by Ronan make it increasingly watchable and engrossing and putting to one side what would be usually considered really rather corny. It got me to thinking about family and connections and to where I call home. Yeah it were alright. Julie Walters is pretty funny in it too.
Prince Monolulu
Everything in Moderation
Just watched this, really enjoyed it.
Meade's Ball
Well-known member
I am not sure if i am becoming lenient toward films, you know, with age, at least in part, but today i only squirmed about 7 times with The Bridge of Spies, that new all-American Spielberg film. T'other day i saw Hunger Games 11 and didn't feel hateful either - tis not a good or cheery film, but i trundled along with it without growing spite, as far as my aged brain can recall. The Bridge of Spies is the based-on true to life tale of Jim Donovan, an ace lawyer, specialising in insurance claims, who is called in to represent Colonel Abel, a man captured and refusing to deny his life as a Russian spy. It is 1957 and the cold war is at its fear-filled frozen worst. For all its pro-American tones, the yankees are made out to be rather backward, with Abel easily outsmarting the oafish CIA, and also with each look from the public at Jim Donovan whilst he defends Abel being one filled with brainless anti-constitution hatred. Hanks, of course as sort of good-hearted justice-hungry everyman Donovan, argues that Abel going to the electric chair would prevent the US having a bargaining tool if an American spy was captured, and, by jingo, he is proved just right as a square-jawed pilot falls into enemy territory. How then will man of the people Hanks head off to hopeless East Germany to negotiate for Americans to return home?
Spielberg has his usual way of making a film that has its moments and its certain scenes of well-crafted style, but drowns any narrative complexities and depth of human character in the honey-coated flood of 1980s tv movie ordinariness. Anywho, i watched without ire as the tale plodded along. Abel is played by Mark Rylance, who again does his slightly raised eyebrow and wry glance on things going on around him, but does a reasonable job. I was surprised to see the Coen brothers have their hands in the script, which didn't hugely enthrall. Anywhen, in spite of the inconsistent tone and the less than thrilling tempo, and for Hanks being Hanks, it was less than ok, but not awful at times.
That's not praise or acceptance at all, is it.
Ah well.
Spielberg has his usual way of making a film that has its moments and its certain scenes of well-crafted style, but drowns any narrative complexities and depth of human character in the honey-coated flood of 1980s tv movie ordinariness. Anywho, i watched without ire as the tale plodded along. Abel is played by Mark Rylance, who again does his slightly raised eyebrow and wry glance on things going on around him, but does a reasonable job. I was surprised to see the Coen brothers have their hands in the script, which didn't hugely enthrall. Anywhen, in spite of the inconsistent tone and the less than thrilling tempo, and for Hanks being Hanks, it was less than ok, but not awful at times.
That's not praise or acceptance at all, is it.
Ah well.
Barry Izbak
U.T.A.
I am not sure if i am becoming lenient toward films, you know, with age, at least in part, but today i only squirmed about 7 times with The Bridge of Spies, that new all-American Spielberg film.
The Bridge of Spies is the based-on true to life tale of Jim Donovan, an ace lawyer, specialising in insurance claims, who is called in to represent Colonel Abel, a man captured and refusing to deny his life as a Russian spy. It is 1957 and the cold war is at its fear-filled frozen worst. For all its pro-American tones, the Yankees are made out to be rather backward, with Abel easily outsmarting the oafish CIA, and also with each look from the public at Jim Donovan whilst he defends Abel being one filled with brainless anti-constitution hatred.
Hanks, of course as sort of good-hearted justice-hungry everyman Donovan, argues that Abel going to the electric chair would prevent the US having a bargaining tool if an American spy was captured, and, by jingo, he is proved just right as a square-jawed pilot falls into enemy territory. How then will man of the people Hanks head off to hopeless East Germany to negotiate for Americans to return home?
Spielberg has his usual way of making a film that has its moments and its certain scenes of well-crafted style, but drowns any narrative complexities and depth of human character in the honey-coated flood of 1980s tv movie ordinariness. Anyhow, I watched without ire as the tale plodded along. Abel is played by Mark Rylance, who again does his slightly raised eyebrow and wry glance on things going on around him, but does a reasonable job. I was surprised to see the Coen brothers have their hands in the script, which didn't hugely enthrall. Anywhen, in spite of the inconsistent tone and the less than thrilling tempo, and for Hanks being Hanks, it was less than ok, but not awful at times.
That's not praise or acceptance at all, is it.
I don't know about that, but I thought Bridge of Spies was a good old fashioned Cold War story, well told, and presented with just the right amount of Spielbergism.
I like a long film. Makes me feel like its worth going to the pictures to see a film and not just a tv programme. But Mr Meade has a point about the tempo being a bit slow. Having said that the trial was over in a jiffy, so I guess they could have made it even longer - God Forbid.
I never used to like Tom Hanks. Every character he played always seemed to be Tom Hanks. He reminded me of Status Quo trying to do covers of other artists hits. All the same.
This rather shallow attitude changed when I saw Captain Phillips which ought to have earned Hanks more recognition at the awards ceremonies.
Look out also for Alan Alda making a rare appearance, and the grim greyness of East Germany.
I would recommend you don't miss this movie, even if you only wait for the DVD, because its scored my highest mark of the year so far 9/10
I am not sure if i am becoming lenient toward films, you know, with age, at least in part, but today i only squirmed about 7 times with The Bridge of Spies, that new all-American Spielberg film. T'other day i saw Hunger Games 11 and didn't feel hateful either - tis not a good or cheery film, but i trundled along with it without growing spite, as far as my aged brain can recall. The Bridge of Spies is the based-on true to life tale of Jim Donovan, an ace lawyer, specialising in insurance claims, who is called in to represent Colonel Abel, a man captured and refusing to deny his life as a Russian spy. It is 1957 and the cold war is at its fear-filled frozen worst. For all its pro-American tones, the yankees are made out to be rather backward, with Abel easily outsmarting the oafish CIA, and also with each look from the public at Jim Donovan whilst he defends Abel being one filled with brainless anti-constitution hatred. Hanks, of course as sort of good-hearted justice-hungry everyman Donovan, argues that Abel going to the electric chair would prevent the US having a bargaining tool if an American spy was captured, and, by jingo, he is proved just right as a square-jawed pilot falls into enemy territory. How then will man of the people Hanks head off to hopeless East Germany to negotiate for Americans to return home?
Spielberg has his usual way of making a film that has its moments and its certain scenes of well-crafted style, but drowns any narrative complexities and depth of human character in the honey-coated flood of 1980s tv movie ordinariness. Anywho, i watched without ire as the tale plodded along. Abel is played by Mark Rylance, who again does his slightly raised eyebrow and wry glance on things going on around him, but does a reasonable job. I was surprised to see the Coen brothers have their hands in the script, which didn't hugely enthrall. Anywhen, in spite of the inconsistent tone and the less than thrilling tempo, and for Hanks being Hanks, it was less than ok, but not awful at times.
That's not praise or acceptance at all, is it.
" it wasnt awful in places " wow high praise indeed
vegster
Sanity Clause
- May 5, 2008
- 27,908
- Thread starter
- #280
I am not sure if i am becoming lenient toward films, you know, with age, at least in part, but today i only squirmed about 7 times with The Bridge of Spies, that new all-American Spielberg film. T'other day i saw Hunger Games 11 and didn't feel hateful either - tis not a good or cheery film, but i trundled along with it without growing spite, as far as my aged brain can recall. The Bridge of Spies is the based-on true to life tale of Jim Donovan, an ace lawyer, specialising in insurance claims, who is called in to represent Colonel Abel, a man captured and refusing to deny his life as a Russian spy. It is 1957 and the cold war is at its fear-filled frozen worst. For all its pro-American tones, the yankees are made out to be rather backward, with Abel easily outsmarting the oafish CIA, and also with each look from the public at Jim Donovan whilst he defends Abel being one filled with brainless anti-constitution hatred. Hanks, of course as sort of good-hearted justice-hungry everyman Donovan, argues that Abel going to the electric chair would prevent the US having a bargaining tool if an American spy was captured, and, by jingo, he is proved just right as a square-jawed pilot falls into enemy territory. How then will man of the people Hanks head off to hopeless East Germany to negotiate for Americans to return home?
Spielberg has his usual way of making a film that has its moments and its certain scenes of well-crafted style, but drowns any narrative complexities and depth of human character in the honey-coated flood of 1980s tv movie ordinariness. Anywho, i watched without ire as the tale plodded along. Abel is played by Mark Rylance, who again does his slightly raised eyebrow and wry glance on things going on around him, but does a reasonable job. I was surprised to see the Coen brothers have their hands in the script, which didn't hugely enthrall. Anywhen, in spite of the inconsistent tone and the less than thrilling tempo, and for Hanks being Hanks, it was less than ok, but not awful at times.
That's not praise or acceptance at all, is it.
Bad move MB, you now have Uncle Spielberg on your case.