Underground prestige, the lure of the incorrigibly irascible, sophisticated in its blunt obstinacy, thrilling in its inexhaustible excess, a young girl, fascinated by the criminal underworld, scooped up by a smooth talking gangster, lives the life of an espoused sensation, freed from her drab impoverished prospects, shackled by overwhelming instabilities.
Fears.
The Kray twins (Tom Hardy) dialectically indoctrinate with either a suave well-groomed authenticity or an insatiably psychotic rage, depending on which one is in prison or who commands more clout, Leslie Payne (David Thewlis) efficiently bookkeeping as Ronald's hatred for him slowly grows.
Ronald's indiscretions multiply erratically as time passes and his violent caprice threatens their organization's fundamentals.
Frances Shea (Emily Browning) marries Reggie who has the restrained brains to keep afloat but can't shyly tread while Ronald is intent on drowning.
Active invincibility mortally wounded.
Frances suffocated by the madness.
The Legend, boldly applying a feminine conscience through narration to a gangster film in order to examine chaotic crime through the oft overlooked perspective of an observant non-combatant.
It doesn't work very well, the film struggling to assert itself as either a corrupt frenzy or a righteous indignation, the polarized dialogue thereby generated between both the Krays themselves and the Krays and Frances resultantly muddled and incoherent.
It's possible to successfully pull something like that off but I would argue it requires a less straightforward approach, one which utilizes formal cerebral charm to artistically blend fraternal factions.
Legend's so focused on differentiating the Krays (which it does well) that the secondary material, that which would have transported it to another level, staggers in stagnant inadmissibility.
There are several minor characters of note and the script is quite diverse but hardly any of them develop much personality as the Krays engage in reckless gangstering.
Still, there's a great line equating the underworld and the aristocracy.
A strong effort from the filmmaking team, flush with future potential.
Showing posts with label Underground Organizations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Underground Organizations. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Friday, October 2, 2015
Black Mass
Deadly and daunting, impenitent punishment, organized crime teamed up with the F.B.I., seduce the sociopath and secure the judgment, the incarcerations, the quid pro quo legitimizing his wrath, a potentially greater threat emerging in the flames, consolidating, stifling and murdering away, paranoid, wild and wrenching, James 'Whitey' Bulger (Johnny Depp) and John Connolly (Joel Edgerton), kids from the hood, severe yet sloppy.
Lavish lesions.
Like I, Claudius's Tiberius, when the restraints are removed, Bulger becomes increasingly morose, as Connelly begins to think he's an immaculate golden boy, beyond the reach of bureaucratic suspicions.
Earlier on Bulger's more like a loveable gangster, brutal yet principled, a caring family man.
Depp's performance is brilliant, I don't recall him ever playing a similar character, redefining himself after decades of invention, a salute to dynamic vision, to exotic escapades.
Keeping things local.
Black Mass works, simultaneously building tensions both above and under ground.
Loyalty tragically begets oblivion, living the high life neutralizing survival instincts.
Bulger's insanity malevolently menaces over steaks at Connolly's during one potentially enduring sequence, as he toys with the unsuspecting John Morris (David Harbour), and indirectly acknowledges Marianne Connolly's (Julianne Nicholson) foreshadowed contempt.
Bulger's brother is a senator (Benedict Cumberbatch as Billy Bulger) and the fallout of having a criminal brother is oddly overlooked until the end.
You occasionally see Bulger working or discussing his business but his organization still never seems like it's growing, there aren't any scenes that show him managing a dozen or so people for instance, but we know it has grown because he moves into gambling and buys weapons for the I.R.A.
Perhaps the idea was to make him seem small throughout regardless, thereby formally critiquing his actions.
Life and death, the perseverance of a team, Black Mass celebrates good times while hemorrhaging their foundations, improvised expansions, unsettling impermanency.
Lavish lesions.
Like I, Claudius's Tiberius, when the restraints are removed, Bulger becomes increasingly morose, as Connelly begins to think he's an immaculate golden boy, beyond the reach of bureaucratic suspicions.
Earlier on Bulger's more like a loveable gangster, brutal yet principled, a caring family man.
Depp's performance is brilliant, I don't recall him ever playing a similar character, redefining himself after decades of invention, a salute to dynamic vision, to exotic escapades.
Keeping things local.
Black Mass works, simultaneously building tensions both above and under ground.
Loyalty tragically begets oblivion, living the high life neutralizing survival instincts.
Bulger's insanity malevolently menaces over steaks at Connolly's during one potentially enduring sequence, as he toys with the unsuspecting John Morris (David Harbour), and indirectly acknowledges Marianne Connolly's (Julianne Nicholson) foreshadowed contempt.
Bulger's brother is a senator (Benedict Cumberbatch as Billy Bulger) and the fallout of having a criminal brother is oddly overlooked until the end.
You occasionally see Bulger working or discussing his business but his organization still never seems like it's growing, there aren't any scenes that show him managing a dozen or so people for instance, but we know it has grown because he moves into gambling and buys weapons for the I.R.A.
Perhaps the idea was to make him seem small throughout regardless, thereby formally critiquing his actions.
Life and death, the perseverance of a team, Black Mass celebrates good times while hemorrhaging their foundations, improvised expansions, unsettling impermanency.
Friday, July 31, 2015
Self/less
The prospects of immortality, rearrange and shift, mutate, transform, galavanting through the epochs with illuminated historical flexibility, observing, unnerving, acting, forlorn fountainheads cartesian factotums, watching from the sidelines, taking direct roles, zigzagging away through the here and now like mesmerized counteracting resonance, a comment, a plan, an insight, a lyric, a strategy.
The choice is Damian's (Ben Kingsley/Ryan Reynolds).
Repercussions be damned.
Or not, as it soon becomes clear that the body he's purchased wasn't grown in a lab but was once inhabited by another whose consciousness still resides within, regular doses of potent pharmaceuticals required to maintain control, limitless ethics, the conscience of consciousness.
He was an extremely successful businessperson during his first life, erudite and invincible, this aspect giving him an advantage as he begins to unravel the crime, while highlighting the importance of retirement to give the next generation a shot.
He slowly comes to understand this, that he's already come into existence, that new ideas and fresh perspectives invigorate evolution, as his new body persists, still thrives with the ecstasy of youth.
A decision must be made.
A balance must be spiritualized.
Tarsem Singh's Self/less works as a thrilling contemplative digestible crucial reflexion.
Perhaps Ben Kingsley shouldn't retire (any actor looking to star in science-fiction or superhero films should study Kingsley's performance in Self/less).
Age versus youth, activism contra avarice, death circling everlasting life, the theatrics of a dream, the investment of a lifetime.
Agile mainstream science-fiction makes you think while plausibly delivering a steady stream of action.
Self/less embodies these synapses.
A touching examination of transformations within transmutations, it investigates the moral, to powerfully project and diversify.
Note: I'm still quite young.
*I like this Tarsem Singh. He also directed Mirror Mirror. I liked The Cell too when I saw it in 2000.
The choice is Damian's (Ben Kingsley/Ryan Reynolds).
Repercussions be damned.
Or not, as it soon becomes clear that the body he's purchased wasn't grown in a lab but was once inhabited by another whose consciousness still resides within, regular doses of potent pharmaceuticals required to maintain control, limitless ethics, the conscience of consciousness.
He was an extremely successful businessperson during his first life, erudite and invincible, this aspect giving him an advantage as he begins to unravel the crime, while highlighting the importance of retirement to give the next generation a shot.
He slowly comes to understand this, that he's already come into existence, that new ideas and fresh perspectives invigorate evolution, as his new body persists, still thrives with the ecstasy of youth.
A decision must be made.
A balance must be spiritualized.
Tarsem Singh's Self/less works as a thrilling contemplative digestible crucial reflexion.
Perhaps Ben Kingsley shouldn't retire (any actor looking to star in science-fiction or superhero films should study Kingsley's performance in Self/less).
Age versus youth, activism contra avarice, death circling everlasting life, the theatrics of a dream, the investment of a lifetime.
Agile mainstream science-fiction makes you think while plausibly delivering a steady stream of action.
Self/less embodies these synapses.
A touching examination of transformations within transmutations, it investigates the moral, to powerfully project and diversify.
Note: I'm still quite young.
*I like this Tarsem Singh. He also directed Mirror Mirror. I liked The Cell too when I saw it in 2000.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Furious Seven
Fast-paced volatile extremely airtight precisions dominate the best moments of Furious Seven, the latest, possibly the last instalment in The Fast and the Furious franchise.
Which could have been better.
Riddick won my heart years ago so I have a soft spot for Vin Diesel, but you have to give him a better script to work with if you want his raw animalesque agility to instinctually throttle.
The franchise moments, the moments where they b/romantically tie all the films together, are so flimsy and sentimental that I thought I might shed tears of corn husked slushie.
I'm not that devoted to the films, so I thought perhaps I would have been more forgiving if it had been a Star Trek or a Die Hard film, but this isn't true, when those franchises screw up, I'm still there to remind them.
For instance, I did prefer Furious Seven to Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Star Trek V, and A Good Day to Die Hard.
You still have to suspend your disbelief a wee bit too much while viewing it however.
The final battle is just too ridiculous.
Dwayne Johnson awesomely decides to leave his hospital bed (where I believe he was watching the Stampeders) and join in on the action, but come on, how did he find everyone so quickly, it's as if he's simply programmed to kick-ass, and can intuitively place himself within those situations which immediately require ass-kicking.
There's more, but I'd rather not get into it.
It's fun, don't get me wrong, and hey, I love a strong Belgian ale, and Kurt Russell (Nobody), and Corona sometimes, at the beach, although if I could get strong Belgian ale at the beach, but they didn't spend enough time on the script, and may have gotten away with some bland insincerities.
The script doesn't show enough respect for fans of the franchise in my opinion.
Although I'm not a devoted fan.
So I might not know what I'm talking about.
Think I'll hit up a terrace though.
Yes, I, will.
Which could have been better.
Riddick won my heart years ago so I have a soft spot for Vin Diesel, but you have to give him a better script to work with if you want his raw animalesque agility to instinctually throttle.
The franchise moments, the moments where they b/romantically tie all the films together, are so flimsy and sentimental that I thought I might shed tears of corn husked slushie.
I'm not that devoted to the films, so I thought perhaps I would have been more forgiving if it had been a Star Trek or a Die Hard film, but this isn't true, when those franchises screw up, I'm still there to remind them.
For instance, I did prefer Furious Seven to Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Star Trek V, and A Good Day to Die Hard.
You still have to suspend your disbelief a wee bit too much while viewing it however.
The final battle is just too ridiculous.
Dwayne Johnson awesomely decides to leave his hospital bed (where I believe he was watching the Stampeders) and join in on the action, but come on, how did he find everyone so quickly, it's as if he's simply programmed to kick-ass, and can intuitively place himself within those situations which immediately require ass-kicking.
There's more, but I'd rather not get into it.
It's fun, don't get me wrong, and hey, I love a strong Belgian ale, and Kurt Russell (Nobody), and Corona sometimes, at the beach, although if I could get strong Belgian ale at the beach, but they didn't spend enough time on the script, and may have gotten away with some bland insincerities.
The script doesn't show enough respect for fans of the franchise in my opinion.
Although I'm not a devoted fan.
So I might not know what I'm talking about.
Think I'll hit up a terrace though.
Yes, I, will.
Friday, April 17, 2015
Detective Byomkesh Bakshy!
Incisively inclined to meticulously mitigate, Byomkesh Bakshy (Sushant Singh Rajput) lucidly exfoliates the devils in the details, from facade to haste to postage, instantaneously accessing each and every complicit pact.
Indubitably.
This curation doesn't wistfully pry, rather, he gracefully inspects subterfuge and dissimulation like a distraught determined sloosh, ingenuity modestly asserted, the collection of facts, the gathering of precipitates.
Not really a film noir, there isn't a sense of perpetual oppression or an ambiguous translucent hue, Bakshy's too green to be jaded, to successful to be shorn.
More like Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes films, its subject matter gradually becoming more grandiose as Detective Byomkesh Bakshy! progresses, it still does frequent the underground while avoiding the police, Bakshy's insight surveying both realms to serialize ingenious constellations.
Characters curiously come and go, the convivial confessing like crisp contraband, the wicked revelling in their byzantine confessions.
It's well designed, the seemingly insignificant worked into a greater vision, characters reappearing just when I was wondering what had happened to them, logical license and casual constructs, solid crescendo, youthful passion making danger seem fun.
Whenever it appears like it's going to far, Bakshy's detections cleverly level things out.
Intense yet chill.
Indubitably.
This curation doesn't wistfully pry, rather, he gracefully inspects subterfuge and dissimulation like a distraught determined sloosh, ingenuity modestly asserted, the collection of facts, the gathering of precipitates.
Not really a film noir, there isn't a sense of perpetual oppression or an ambiguous translucent hue, Bakshy's too green to be jaded, to successful to be shorn.
More like Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes films, its subject matter gradually becoming more grandiose as Detective Byomkesh Bakshy! progresses, it still does frequent the underground while avoiding the police, Bakshy's insight surveying both realms to serialize ingenious constellations.
Characters curiously come and go, the convivial confessing like crisp contraband, the wicked revelling in their byzantine confessions.
It's well designed, the seemingly insignificant worked into a greater vision, characters reappearing just when I was wondering what had happened to them, logical license and casual constructs, solid crescendo, youthful passion making danger seem fun.
Whenever it appears like it's going to far, Bakshy's detections cleverly level things out.
Intense yet chill.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Let's be Cops
Decision making is confidently yet wryly chastised throughout Let's be Cops, the story of two down-on-their-luck friends who have moved from Ohio to L.A. in search of alternative opportunities.
Chastised yet rewarded.
Alternative opportunities they have found but financial stability alludes them, and one, who is unemployed and regularly relives his youth by playing pick-up football with neighbourhood kids, remains confident it's within their reach, while the other has second thoughts about their future's sustainability.
After misunderstanding the dress code for a masquerade themed reunion, they find themselves walking-the-beat dressed-up as policepersons, and, after having been mistaken for actual policepersons, decide it's in their best interests to play along, taking on organized crime shortly thereafter.
It's kind of funny at times, I liked the characters, and it uses some solid tricks, like introducing a third, wacky member of the team when Ryan (Jake Johnson) and Justin's (Damon Wayans Jr.) chemistry wears off, but there are far too many gaping holes in its reality based plot which aren't backed up by sensationally outrageous outcomes, therefore ironically requiring the suspension of too much disbelief, the improvised situations the partners find themselves within entertaining enough, their logistics, even after they're discovered, built on far too shaky a foundation.
There's something to be said for layering ridiculous scenario after ridiculous scenario on top of a bed of ludicrous jocularity, each hiccup emphasizing courage and adaptability, boldly venturing into the unknown to make a difference, responding positively to multiple bellicose bumps in the road, like launching a petition at change.org.
This strategy works better in a film less attached to quotidian coordinates however, even if said coordinates are somewhat endearing, like a comfy, fluffy, pile-driving pillow.
This strategy works quite well at change.org.
Chastised yet rewarded.
Alternative opportunities they have found but financial stability alludes them, and one, who is unemployed and regularly relives his youth by playing pick-up football with neighbourhood kids, remains confident it's within their reach, while the other has second thoughts about their future's sustainability.
After misunderstanding the dress code for a masquerade themed reunion, they find themselves walking-the-beat dressed-up as policepersons, and, after having been mistaken for actual policepersons, decide it's in their best interests to play along, taking on organized crime shortly thereafter.
It's kind of funny at times, I liked the characters, and it uses some solid tricks, like introducing a third, wacky member of the team when Ryan (Jake Johnson) and Justin's (Damon Wayans Jr.) chemistry wears off, but there are far too many gaping holes in its reality based plot which aren't backed up by sensationally outrageous outcomes, therefore ironically requiring the suspension of too much disbelief, the improvised situations the partners find themselves within entertaining enough, their logistics, even after they're discovered, built on far too shaky a foundation.
There's something to be said for layering ridiculous scenario after ridiculous scenario on top of a bed of ludicrous jocularity, each hiccup emphasizing courage and adaptability, boldly venturing into the unknown to make a difference, responding positively to multiple bellicose bumps in the road, like launching a petition at change.org.
This strategy works better in a film less attached to quotidian coordinates however, even if said coordinates are somewhat endearing, like a comfy, fluffy, pile-driving pillow.
This strategy works quite well at change.org.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Escalating like a tepid uninspired frantic boil, the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles film never hesitates to nunchaku an identity of its own.
Formulaic without circumventing its conventions, accelerated at the expense of conscious depth, maudlin where it could have been instructive, taking its love of cheese pizza, far, far to far, it's kind of cool if you grew up with the characters, like a sand duned mediocrity, or going to a beach where you can't swim, but its secrets are revealed much too quickly, leaving no room for theories or suppositions, just blatant banal facts.
Perhaps I'm being too hard on the film.
It's obviously made for children under the age of 10.
Like a preparatory film designed to familiarize pre-adolescent audiences with the filmic structures they'll comprehend more elastically as their parents allow them to see films like The Avengers.
But, if I'm not mistaken, this same age group likely saw The Avengers, and were likely therefore prepared in advance for something with more depth, something with more than just a funny elevator scene.
April's (Megan Fox) a strong character, so is Vernon (Will Arnett), their interactions driving the narrative for viewing parents, Vernon's troubles time-honoured and tragic, April's pursuits, dedicated and commendable.
But still, I mean, wouldn't an 8-year-old know that her attempts to sell a tale about humanoid vigilante turtles to her boss without indisputable evidence would quickly be characterized as narcotic induced quackery, even if they're noble in their ingenuous search for the truth?
I suppose they would identify with April as their parents regularly dismiss the truths uncovered during their own sleuthful explorations.
I don't know.
Formulaic without circumventing its conventions, accelerated at the expense of conscious depth, maudlin where it could have been instructive, taking its love of cheese pizza, far, far to far, it's kind of cool if you grew up with the characters, like a sand duned mediocrity, or going to a beach where you can't swim, but its secrets are revealed much too quickly, leaving no room for theories or suppositions, just blatant banal facts.
Perhaps I'm being too hard on the film.
It's obviously made for children under the age of 10.
Like a preparatory film designed to familiarize pre-adolescent audiences with the filmic structures they'll comprehend more elastically as their parents allow them to see films like The Avengers.
But, if I'm not mistaken, this same age group likely saw The Avengers, and were likely therefore prepared in advance for something with more depth, something with more than just a funny elevator scene.
April's (Megan Fox) a strong character, so is Vernon (Will Arnett), their interactions driving the narrative for viewing parents, Vernon's troubles time-honoured and tragic, April's pursuits, dedicated and commendable.
But still, I mean, wouldn't an 8-year-old know that her attempts to sell a tale about humanoid vigilante turtles to her boss without indisputable evidence would quickly be characterized as narcotic induced quackery, even if they're noble in their ingenuous search for the truth?
I suppose they would identify with April as their parents regularly dismiss the truths uncovered during their own sleuthful explorations.
I don't know.
Monday, July 14, 2014
Borgman
The bourgeois patriarchy finds unconditional support in Alex van Warmerdam's Borgman, a poignantly pointless florescent canker, rifle at the ready, red alert middle-class aesthetics.
While viewing, you may find yourself considering at least two questions, the first, why in hell would anyone make something like this?, the second, is this the pinnacle of paranoid stereotyped fabled uncensored grit, the beast aimlessly targeting the beauty, the arrogance of a stifled hypodermic, unreeling like a Criterion in the making?
The only film to ever remind me of Jerzy Skolimowski's The Shout.
It could have been an after school special direly warning teens not to hitchhike.
Or a film where a plane crashes in Alaska and wolves communally hunt down the survivors.
Instead, suburban peace and tranquility is infiltrated by a troupe of travelling possibly demonic psychopaths, who, in this instance, seek employment in order to use the tools at their disposal to create a platform upon which they intend to put on a show, the couple's wife residing in their grip, the husband, completely oblivious.
Discontent is sewn.
I'm assuming Warmerdam has worked a Dutch fairy tale or legend of some kind into his script, the film seeming as if it's a crisp contemporary take on a medieval horror, with cars and cellphones, although the fact that it seemed that way to me is based on my assumption.
Off they go, into the forest.
If there were still bears in the Netherlands, keeping with the fairy tale hypothesis, they would be on the lookout.
Bears were obviously guardians of the forest in Dutch fairy tales/legends.
I know nothing about the Netherlands.
While viewing, you may find yourself considering at least two questions, the first, why in hell would anyone make something like this?, the second, is this the pinnacle of paranoid stereotyped fabled uncensored grit, the beast aimlessly targeting the beauty, the arrogance of a stifled hypodermic, unreeling like a Criterion in the making?
The only film to ever remind me of Jerzy Skolimowski's The Shout.
It could have been an after school special direly warning teens not to hitchhike.
Or a film where a plane crashes in Alaska and wolves communally hunt down the survivors.
Instead, suburban peace and tranquility is infiltrated by a troupe of travelling possibly demonic psychopaths, who, in this instance, seek employment in order to use the tools at their disposal to create a platform upon which they intend to put on a show, the couple's wife residing in their grip, the husband, completely oblivious.
Discontent is sewn.
I'm assuming Warmerdam has worked a Dutch fairy tale or legend of some kind into his script, the film seeming as if it's a crisp contemporary take on a medieval horror, with cars and cellphones, although the fact that it seemed that way to me is based on my assumption.
Off they go, into the forest.
If there were still bears in the Netherlands, keeping with the fairy tale hypothesis, they would be on the lookout.
Bears were obviously guardians of the forest in Dutch fairy tales/legends.
I know nothing about the Netherlands.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Transcendence
Transcendence is kind of a flop.
But it is fun to think about what happens in the film.
It explores the possibilities of uploading one's consciousness online and then existing cyberexistentially.
Dr. Will Caster (Johnny Depp) and his wife Evelyn (Rebecca Hall) are conducting the research.
An underground organization fears their pursuits and launches a strike with the goal of obliterating them.
They hit Mr. Caster with a poisonous bullet which will kill him if he can't find a way to put said research into action.
Which he does, uploading himself, becoming a socially conscious superbeing thereafter.
His might, strength, reach and power then alarm law enforcement agencies previously dedicated to preserving his life.
Identity becomes an issue: is this superbeing Will Caster or a different person altogether?
Law enforcement reps begin to work with the still determined underground organization to break through the impregnable infrastructure Caster has created.
He's found a way to use nanotechnology to both regenerate physical material almost immediately after its bombardment/disintegration and save the lives of terminally ill individuals.
Whose minds he then enters and whose bodies he can then control, turning them into his loyal zombie soldiers.
Loyal zombie soldiers are his undoing; he never should have interfered with his patient's abilities to think and act freely.
He does though, and doesn't bother to share his plans to use his power to solve manifold environmental issues, an objective brought about by his love for Evelyn, who feels guilty for having worked with the resistance after discovering this fact, and its unfortunate benevolent despotism.
Transcendence suggests that unlimited secretive superpower may unite institutional and rebellious forces since they will likely both be frightened by its omnipresence, and will therefore, try to stop it.
There are a lot of great ideas in the film, and some great lines, but this one's a definite rental, that can be paused from time to time to acquire additional snacks.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Runner Runner
Liked what happens in Runner Runner more than the film itself.
It's too generic for my tastes, not the kind of generic film that recognizes its shortcomings and works an awkward self-critical yet confident and bedazzling dimension into its reels, haughty and sporty, arrogant yet maudlin, but the kind that directly deals with a popular contemporary pastime (online gambling) by utilizing a straightforward style with all the associated bells and whistles, to maximize its take home without taking any serious risks.
Throughout the film serious risks are taken, the plot necessitates serious risk taking, it's just that it takes these serious risks leisurely and comfortably, straightforwardly, if that makes sense.
This aspect is best represented by the crocodile scene.
It still employs clever underground reversals however that made me glad I stuck it out till the end.
To avoid giving away what happens, imagine a situation where a brilliant statistical analyst has the worst possible luck and his financial situation dictates that alternative methods must be embraced if he's to succeed, like Inception's Cobb, the socioeconomic dice stacked against him in each and every sophisticated spin of the wheel, in/formal inter/national legalities stacking the deck, but tries to maximize his profits anyways, even though it could result in the loss of everything.
He makes his bet.
Doubles down.
Throws in the chips.
Undergrounds within undergrounds.
Proceeding delicately.
It's too generic for my tastes, not the kind of generic film that recognizes its shortcomings and works an awkward self-critical yet confident and bedazzling dimension into its reels, haughty and sporty, arrogant yet maudlin, but the kind that directly deals with a popular contemporary pastime (online gambling) by utilizing a straightforward style with all the associated bells and whistles, to maximize its take home without taking any serious risks.
Throughout the film serious risks are taken, the plot necessitates serious risk taking, it's just that it takes these serious risks leisurely and comfortably, straightforwardly, if that makes sense.
This aspect is best represented by the crocodile scene.
It still employs clever underground reversals however that made me glad I stuck it out till the end.
To avoid giving away what happens, imagine a situation where a brilliant statistical analyst has the worst possible luck and his financial situation dictates that alternative methods must be embraced if he's to succeed, like Inception's Cobb, the socioeconomic dice stacked against him in each and every sophisticated spin of the wheel, in/formal inter/national legalities stacking the deck, but tries to maximize his profits anyways, even though it could result in the loss of everything.
He makes his bet.
Doubles down.
Throws in the chips.
Undergrounds within undergrounds.
Proceeding delicately.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
The East
Professional integrity lands itself a high-level covert assignment, full of danger and risk, wherein it must clandestinely adjudicate its broad range of astute sociological reflexes to infiltrate a stealth pack of humanistic hyperreactivists and expose their audacious whereabouts.
She finds them far too easily, but after coyly yet adhesively nestling, finds herself inductively considering their proactive cause, which seeks stricter much more effective regulations regarding the ways in which big business generates profit.
She works for a rather big business herself and must come to terms with its motives as she becomes increasingly integrated in both domains.
Her partner is frustrated.
Her conscience is bifurcated.
Friendships coalesce.
She is neither arrogant nor weak.
The East melodramatically yet crucially materializes the dissonant underground social dynamics of altruistically pursuing game changing objectives (the comments made by the underground collective occasionally seem at odds with their ethical ideals), bringing some of Terry Eagleton's arguments to life, without shying away from juxtaposing economic with ethical impoverishment.
The scene where Izzy's (Ellen Page) estranged parent jumps in the toxic sludge works well.
Laws can be made to correspond to the goals fought for in this film.
Made and enforced.
Check out Vincent Lam's Tommy Douglas, part of Penguin's Extraordinary Canadians series, and find out what the CCF party did for ordinary hard working citizens of Saskatchewan in a relatively short period of time, when a lot of people thought nothing could be done.
They enacted social democratic change while balancing the budget.
They proceeded cautiously and soundly to legitimize their movement's thrust.
Not that easy to do of course, but there are people all over the world who become rather upset when their water supply turns carcinogenic.
It's just common sense.
She finds them far too easily, but after coyly yet adhesively nestling, finds herself inductively considering their proactive cause, which seeks stricter much more effective regulations regarding the ways in which big business generates profit.
She works for a rather big business herself and must come to terms with its motives as she becomes increasingly integrated in both domains.
Her partner is frustrated.
Her conscience is bifurcated.
Friendships coalesce.
She is neither arrogant nor weak.
The East melodramatically yet crucially materializes the dissonant underground social dynamics of altruistically pursuing game changing objectives (the comments made by the underground collective occasionally seem at odds with their ethical ideals), bringing some of Terry Eagleton's arguments to life, without shying away from juxtaposing economic with ethical impoverishment.
The scene where Izzy's (Ellen Page) estranged parent jumps in the toxic sludge works well.
Laws can be made to correspond to the goals fought for in this film.
Made and enforced.
Check out Vincent Lam's Tommy Douglas, part of Penguin's Extraordinary Canadians series, and find out what the CCF party did for ordinary hard working citizens of Saskatchewan in a relatively short period of time, when a lot of people thought nothing could be done.
They enacted social democratic change while balancing the budget.
They proceeded cautiously and soundly to legitimize their movement's thrust.
Not that easy to do of course, but there are people all over the world who become rather upset when their water supply turns carcinogenic.
It's just common sense.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Mud
Innocent pluck tenderly, loyally, and brazenly clashes with his ideals as their real world applications resoundingly prove despairing.
Not that they aren't still omnipresent, as vital to those whose desires and incomes problematize their sustainability as to those whose iron will does not, uncompromised dedication liaising with starvation and prevarication to slowly devastate an unyielding devotion, destructive acts of retributive jealousy increasing in proportion with their subject's maniacal progressions, with no recourse to substantial alternative educational or economic detachments, to productively cover things up.
Mud's (Matthew McConaughey) love for Juniper (Reese Witherspoon) defines his sense of purpose as a career or a pastime might define another, and only after seeing his self naively rematerialized in the form of a 14-year-old risking everything to help him, does difference dawn.
Jeff Nichol's Mud ruggedly evaporates an accidental transient symbiotic bilateral pact, having uplifted both partners in its unwritten momentary apotheosis.
Seen through a child's eyes, many of the film's sequences are oversimplified.
Strength of character compensates.
Mandatory for lovers of romantic impoverished hard-hitting innovative coming of age bucolics.
Not that they aren't still omnipresent, as vital to those whose desires and incomes problematize their sustainability as to those whose iron will does not, uncompromised dedication liaising with starvation and prevarication to slowly devastate an unyielding devotion, destructive acts of retributive jealousy increasing in proportion with their subject's maniacal progressions, with no recourse to substantial alternative educational or economic detachments, to productively cover things up.
Mud's (Matthew McConaughey) love for Juniper (Reese Witherspoon) defines his sense of purpose as a career or a pastime might define another, and only after seeing his self naively rematerialized in the form of a 14-year-old risking everything to help him, does difference dawn.
Jeff Nichol's Mud ruggedly evaporates an accidental transient symbiotic bilateral pact, having uplifted both partners in its unwritten momentary apotheosis.
Seen through a child's eyes, many of the film's sequences are oversimplified.
Strength of character compensates.
Mandatory for lovers of romantic impoverished hard-hitting innovative coming of age bucolics.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Underworld: Awakening
Vampires and werewolves are at in again in Awakening, the latest instalment in the Underworld series.
Fan favourite Selene (Kate Beckinsale) is set free from her chamber after having been preserved on ice for a dozen years at a medical corporation known as Antigen. Instantaneously regaining her combative flexibility, she terrorizes the surrounding security forces in order to acrobatically escape the premises.
In search of lover and vampire/lycan hybrid Michael Corvin.
Little does she know that during her cryogenic slumber she gave birth to a hybrid child known as Subject 2/Eve (India Eisley) whom the lycans now viciously seek.
She rescues her daughter from their clutches and is then fortunately provided with sanctuary at a secretive coven by the curious and friendly David (Theo James).
But the lycans soon come calling and successfully recapture little Eve before taking her back to home base.
Serene must now break into Antigen and rescue her daughter before the diabolical Dr. Jacob Lane (Stephen Rea) can cut her to pieces.
And proliferate his cure.
Oh, and humans caught on to the existence of vampires and lycans and killed most of them during The Purge which took place at the time Antigen acquired Serene.
If you really like the Underworld series and don't mind that its lore isn't significantly internally diversified or particularized, and are only seeking an hour-and-a-half of fast paced tormented action, Awakening will work for you, as it contains that which you desire.
If you are seeking the historical element that made some of its predecessors more noteworthy steer clear as there's little of tangential yet critical value within besides a brute examination of different generational attitudes concerning survival, a regenerative super-lycan (whose presence goes nowhere) (Kris Holden-Ried as Quint Lane), and a visionary cop (Michael Ealy as Detective Sebastian) who doesn't want to recondition The Purge's hysteria.
Headstrong, stunted and brief.
Could have used less hyperactivity.
Fan favourite Selene (Kate Beckinsale) is set free from her chamber after having been preserved on ice for a dozen years at a medical corporation known as Antigen. Instantaneously regaining her combative flexibility, she terrorizes the surrounding security forces in order to acrobatically escape the premises.
In search of lover and vampire/lycan hybrid Michael Corvin.
Little does she know that during her cryogenic slumber she gave birth to a hybrid child known as Subject 2/Eve (India Eisley) whom the lycans now viciously seek.
She rescues her daughter from their clutches and is then fortunately provided with sanctuary at a secretive coven by the curious and friendly David (Theo James).
But the lycans soon come calling and successfully recapture little Eve before taking her back to home base.
Serene must now break into Antigen and rescue her daughter before the diabolical Dr. Jacob Lane (Stephen Rea) can cut her to pieces.
And proliferate his cure.
Oh, and humans caught on to the existence of vampires and lycans and killed most of them during The Purge which took place at the time Antigen acquired Serene.
If you really like the Underworld series and don't mind that its lore isn't significantly internally diversified or particularized, and are only seeking an hour-and-a-half of fast paced tormented action, Awakening will work for you, as it contains that which you desire.
If you are seeking the historical element that made some of its predecessors more noteworthy steer clear as there's little of tangential yet critical value within besides a brute examination of different generational attitudes concerning survival, a regenerative super-lycan (whose presence goes nowhere) (Kris Holden-Ried as Quint Lane), and a visionary cop (Michael Ealy as Detective Sebastian) who doesn't want to recondition The Purge's hysteria.
Headstrong, stunted and brief.
Could have used less hyperactivity.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Hot Fuzz
Wow. Ever been worried that the warm and friendly atmosphere blossoming in your small town is being sinisterly manufactured in order to preserve an antiquated way of life? Ever considered that beneath the pristine picturesque pastimes coordinating your daily pastoral activities lies a determined sect dedicated to ensuring that those activities will remain unchanged, forever?
Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg sure have and the result is a chilling satirization of life in the country, complete with down home cute and cuddly clementines and the infrequent honk of a rebellious swan.
Or Hot Fuzz for short.
Police officer Nicholas Angel (Simon Pegg) excels at his job. But he performs beyond exceptionally thereby alienating most of the force.
This results in his transfer from London to Sandford.
His dedicated uncompromising bullet proof rectitude also frustrates many in Sandford, but not before he acknowledges that he may have a problem and also befriends partner Danny Butterman (Nick Frost).
The two form an unlikely duo determined to prove that a series of recent deaths are in fact the product of murder, Simon Skinner (Timothy Dalton) being their principal suspect.
Should Angel proceed with the traditional traction that has failed to serve him well professionally, or should he relax his pursuit of justice in order to make a more homely fit in his new town?
The answer enriches the ultimate battle of good versus evil, sublimely crafted and ridiculously executed, truly one for the ages.
If you like watching well-written films wherein characters are given seriously comedic room to maneuver, films which seem like they're unconcerned with their narrative's meticulously researched playfully cohesive structure, films which set up over the top stereotypes in opposition and then provide them with plenty of ammo, films where representatives of law and order break down and descend into total chaos, while still upholding the law, you'll likely enjoy Hot Fuzz's bizarre relationship with tradition and redemption, give or take a theoretical posture regarding communal individuality.
Obsessed unyielding conviction. Authority and a pledge of trust. Guns.
Hot Fuzz.
Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg sure have and the result is a chilling satirization of life in the country, complete with down home cute and cuddly clementines and the infrequent honk of a rebellious swan.
Or Hot Fuzz for short.
Police officer Nicholas Angel (Simon Pegg) excels at his job. But he performs beyond exceptionally thereby alienating most of the force.
This results in his transfer from London to Sandford.
His dedicated uncompromising bullet proof rectitude also frustrates many in Sandford, but not before he acknowledges that he may have a problem and also befriends partner Danny Butterman (Nick Frost).
The two form an unlikely duo determined to prove that a series of recent deaths are in fact the product of murder, Simon Skinner (Timothy Dalton) being their principal suspect.
Should Angel proceed with the traditional traction that has failed to serve him well professionally, or should he relax his pursuit of justice in order to make a more homely fit in his new town?
The answer enriches the ultimate battle of good versus evil, sublimely crafted and ridiculously executed, truly one for the ages.
If you like watching well-written films wherein characters are given seriously comedic room to maneuver, films which seem like they're unconcerned with their narrative's meticulously researched playfully cohesive structure, films which set up over the top stereotypes in opposition and then provide them with plenty of ammo, films where representatives of law and order break down and descend into total chaos, while still upholding the law, you'll likely enjoy Hot Fuzz's bizarre relationship with tradition and redemption, give or take a theoretical posture regarding communal individuality.
Obsessed unyielding conviction. Authority and a pledge of trust. Guns.
Hot Fuzz.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Green Hornet
Can a spoiled good-natured exceedingly wealthy party animal suddenly turn his life around and combat the forces of evil with unerring alacrity and formidable strength? Definitely not without the help of his ingenious barista, and within Michel Gondry's The Green Hornet this is sort of what happens, although the exploits of Britt Reid (Seth Rogan) and Kato (Jay Chou) do not proceed as smoothly as aforementioned. It's a film more about cool gadgets, sophomoric dialogue, and stunning automobiles than battling bad guys and dispensing justice, a different sort of super hero film, if you can call it that, where the villain (Chudnofsky [Christoph Waltz]) has the best lines and the most integrity (ala Frank Booth [note the gas mask]), and the hero is a jealous, ineffectual schmuck (your reaction to Chudnofsky's identity crisis could make or break the film for you [I only saw one Green Hornet ad showcasing Chudnofsky and I'm not surprised; the jokes only work well in context]). A lot of superheroes lack the confidence to engage in superheroic acts until that special moment when they realize they've possessed what it takes to superhero all along. In The Green Hornet, Reid has the confidence to engage in superheroic acts and it's not until that special moment where he realizes he's a douche bag, one who seriously needs his support network, that he discovers the necessary skills. The film's well written insofar as it develops intriguing ingenuous and devious characters full of frustration and weakness who are relatable and comedically tragic and places them within off-beat game-changing big-picture situations (Reid equals fantasy, Kato, reality). The structure's somewhat suspect however inasmuch as more screen time is spent exploring the friendships/relationships between Reid, Kato, and Lenore Case (Cameron Diaz) than developing legitimate underground crime fighters (this would have worked more successfully in a graphic novel). Nonetheless, they do fight crime, and near the end we watch as a socially-conscious American floats through the sky seated beside a brilliant Chinese self-made-person, their livelihood sustained by an incisive woman, existential yet practical as they have made a difference.
Mehopes this image bears fruit in the 21st Century.
Mehopes this image bears fruit in the 21st Century.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
I've fallen for the Harry Potter series in recent weeks, burning through 1300 pages in the last 10 days, finishing both The Order of the Phoenix and The Half-Blood Prince. I've been on the jones to check out David Yates's adaptation of The Order of the Phoenix since and finally found the time this evening. While Yates crams most of the novel's highlights into his feature, his film suffers from too much detail and not enough divination, reminding one of the meandering Chamber of Secrets rather than the tumultuous Goblet of Fire.
At the same time, the details were definitely appreciated. I was hoping to see Seamus (Devon Murray) and Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) confront one another, watch Fred and George (James and Oliver Phelps) test their Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, view the Black family tree, listen to Luna Loovegood's (Evanna Lynch) oddly poignant points of view, and cheer while Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis) threatens Bellatrix Lestrange (Helena Bonham Carter). But the details kept bombarding, leaving me with galleons of information to bank in a knut's worth of time. It’s refreshing to encounter all of these nuances and see the characters given their two to three minutes of screen time, but removing some of their dialogue and focusing more intently on a fewer number of plot threads would have given The Order the chance to build to a strong finish, rather than meandering onwards towards a lacklustre climax. I suppose this problem was to be expected due to the 700 plus pages in the book, but sometimes including terse tidbits of tenaciously constructed literary action causes the scenes displayed to lose much of their emotional depth, notably the infantilized centaurs, the confrontation between Professor McGonagall (Maggie Smith) and Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton), and every scene involving Sybil Trelawney (Emma Thompson).
I suppose The Order of the Phoenix delivers another entertaining escape into the Potter realm, even if it's somewhat hasty. And it certainly enhanced my crush on Luna Loovegood, leaving me comfortably daydreaming about a stroll past a lakeside beech tree, just in time to watch a Giant Squid frustrate some Merpeople. But it could use a spontaneous difference, an extended unexpected break in the magical material, to round out its structure and diversify its focus.
At the same time, the details were definitely appreciated. I was hoping to see Seamus (Devon Murray) and Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) confront one another, watch Fred and George (James and Oliver Phelps) test their Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, view the Black family tree, listen to Luna Loovegood's (Evanna Lynch) oddly poignant points of view, and cheer while Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis) threatens Bellatrix Lestrange (Helena Bonham Carter). But the details kept bombarding, leaving me with galleons of information to bank in a knut's worth of time. It’s refreshing to encounter all of these nuances and see the characters given their two to three minutes of screen time, but removing some of their dialogue and focusing more intently on a fewer number of plot threads would have given The Order the chance to build to a strong finish, rather than meandering onwards towards a lacklustre climax. I suppose this problem was to be expected due to the 700 plus pages in the book, but sometimes including terse tidbits of tenaciously constructed literary action causes the scenes displayed to lose much of their emotional depth, notably the infantilized centaurs, the confrontation between Professor McGonagall (Maggie Smith) and Dolores Umbridge (Imelda Staunton), and every scene involving Sybil Trelawney (Emma Thompson).
I suppose The Order of the Phoenix delivers another entertaining escape into the Potter realm, even if it's somewhat hasty. And it certainly enhanced my crush on Luna Loovegood, leaving me comfortably daydreaming about a stroll past a lakeside beech tree, just in time to watch a Giant Squid frustrate some Merpeople. But it could use a spontaneous difference, an extended unexpected break in the magical material, to round out its structure and diversify its focus.
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