Theme parks look like money makers. The crowds, the merchandise, the people willing to pay big bucks to wait in line more than actually doing anything like seeing attractions. They really can cash it in. Since you pay one, always raising, price, you can't wheel and deal and budget. One lump sum into the pockets of various shareholders. Movie makers? On the other hand? Simple. You can rotate your property to digital home services for those who aren't willing to shell out the movie tickets, and maybe make some kind of profit. The theater? That doesn't have to be rebuilt, you just install another movie. And you can play it a few times a day to earn your cash.
Disney, always looking for another way to sell their wares (these people can get the lint out of your pockets, so don't say you weren't warned-and don't worry, I drank the Kool-Aid too, every single fucking time), elected to rebrand their famed attractions at the turn of the century. Taking a page from their own rulebook from back in the 80's, where they found actors and actresses who weren't bringing in the contracts, casting them in quick movies under a new banner, Touchstone pictures, and sending them back out in the wild; elected to take their theme park intellectual properties and make motion pictures. Most were, well, bland. The Haunted Mansion, a popular attraction at every park, has amazing special effects that happen 'live' (for lack of a better term) before your very eyes; Hollywood movies have already done that, so they would have to rely on a story to keep such a film afloat.
It sank. Even with Eddie Murphy, it wasn't very funny. Was it for kids? Was it for adults? Who knows. Disney didn't. But they made it.
They also cobbled together a Country Bears tale which was amusing, but, again, it came off as a Chuck E. Cheese presentation without much creativity. Or country music.
The third creation? Based on one of the last creation from Mr. Disney himself? Pirates of the Caribbean. Here's something. They tried something totally new. They rode the ride out there in Anaheim a few gazillion times and it shows. They came out with a creative tale of cursed treasure, pirates that can't die but want to live again, a love story, cannon-fire, and huge set pieces that came to explosive entertainment on the screen that summer of 2003. The music soared. And a supporting character, played with delicious aplomb by Johnny Depp, stole the show while still chewing the scenery. As Captain Jack Sparrow, technically a minor character who pushes the protagonists into play, he threw his skill into the performance and it was truly incredible. You couldn't wait to see his humorous asides and when he was off screen, you wanted him to come back.
And Johnny did what all good looking and exceptional actors do. He tried to make himself as unloveable as possible. He was drunk, his dreads were visibly aromatic. Yet, his swagger, guy-liner, and demeanor was so saucily three-dimensional, the theater's houses were packed.
Obviously, so much fun could not be contained. The sequels followed.
They were abhorrent messes in plotting, moving Depp's character to the front, a convulsion of too many high paid performers trying to angle their way into a storyline, and were a mess.
But Depp brought us back. We lined up, bought tickets and the movies made Disney more money.
To the point where that fixed asset over at Disney World and Disneyland practically cried to have him shoehorned into the ride because the guests were wondering why he wasn't there. He never was. The movie was based off of the ride, not the other way around.
And Depp, it has been known, loves the character. He'll show up at schools and childrens' hospitals across the world. This, folks, is the glory of fame. To do for others in a way none of us can ever imagine. I have some friends who volunteer cosplay at many of these places and they say it's beauty personified. Depp is no slouch. He loves the character enough to do it again and again for the kiddoes.
So it came as no surprise he'd show up again in a fourth film a few years ago.
But understand, he's a minor character. He's so popular, however, they moved him to the front, as protagonist. It didn't gel, when you watch, regardless of the presence of Depp, Penelope Cruz, and Ian McShane as Blackbeard (with that wonderful purr of a villain's voice).
And tickets were sold.
Heck, even I went.
I am, apparently part of the problem. Unlike Spielberg, content to leave his wonderful ET without a sequel to flog the beast to death for a steady paycheck, Disney brushed off ole Jack Sparrow again for a fifth installment.
And, yes, I found myself going...again. Oy. What was I thinking?
There's a reason, beyond Disney's original Treasure Island all those moons ago, that the pirate as a character hasn't taken off as a genre. Here? In Florida? Sure, there's a crapton of Pirate Fair this and Pirate Week that. But, really, the stereotype of the eyepatched, peglegged vile vagabond is truly not been brought up again and again like superheroes or cowboys.
Disney, with this one title, has made an entire genre.
And then keeps making movies. I was thinking I like Sparrow, I like the way Depp plays Sparrow-but, eventually, soda pop does lose it's savory fizz.
It is the story. The last movie was the least complicated of the bunch. Find the Fountain of Youth (it's supposedly here in Florida, on a sidenote. There's a lot of old people down here continuously looking for it and are really crabby about it). Here? Will Turner's son is looking to free his father from the Curse of the Flying Dutchmen, a ghost ship he was imprisoned in during film three. A young lady, going to be executed for practicing science, is some how obsessed with stars and shipping that she gets pulled into Jack's strangely low orbit. A new sea worth villain played with amazing special effects (again) by Javier Bardem as a Spaniard who cannot die until he destroys all the pirates he can find. And, because Jack, like some kind of magical tanned sea sprite, has links to every-single-character. The story folds in on itself here, there, again, here, over there and, after a while, the audience becomes exhausted in trying to figure out motive or purpose. This causes the images to become just that, images. The meaning is lost, and we begin to not even care about anyone.
Not even hottie Johnny Depp, doing his best to not be hot in any kind of pirate way.
(There is Brenton Thwaites in the Henry Turner role, giving Depp a run of his money in the film good looks department-but here's the thing, he's doing the Anakin bit. Too much whining and soft voiced arguing. At least Depp has presence and experience)
The film is seriously flawed, and, even though the cast is trying as hard as they can, there's just no true inner pacing that keeps it roaring forward. Swashbuckling, it seems, has a shelf-life. Maybe, just maybe, Sparrow should keep to being awesome in his own way-making people feel awesome.
As for Depp, he is a massively underrated actor. His good looks do get in the way, and his own tastes in titles he picks are not always the most popular. That's awesome. I just can't help feeling he is just a few steps away from an Oscar. I don't know why it hasn't happened yet. He was incredible, even without the ability to sing, in Sweeney Todd. Hilarious in both Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Black Mass. I liked Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when the world didn't, and he was excellent. Did I say underrated? Maybe that's not the correct word. He's more of an artist than the popular masses can accept. Only Sparrow seems to be the one they accept him as. That's unfortunate.
Because it means there might be more of these complicated Pirate movies.
Folks, just go on the ride. It's much more linear.
First the Handmaid's Tale. A novel approach to, well, a novel-it went ahead and made me think of critiquing something in a different manner.
Such a brave new world, with such people in it.
Now? This.
As you know, I'm kinda into my Disney crap. This blog is not a location for such elaboration, but more of an intro as to where I'm going with this. I was afforded an opportunity this weekend, on Mother's Day, to be exact, to see Disney World's latest "land" over at their Animal Kingdom. This land? This specific locale is based on the famed Avatar and it's setting, the off-planet moon of Pandora. This new land located in the area that used to be housing Camp Minnie-Mickey, a completely failed attempt to fill space that was going to be holding the "legendary beasts" section of the park. They already had real animals. They had extinct animals over in Dinoland. This was going to be the corner of the park that housed dragons and mythical beasts, you know, animals that Never Were. But, Disney, seeing they were already making money, used the excuse that Harry Potter was claimed over at Universal and would be giving similar experiences, just threw some old Lion King parade floats into a warehouse, hired acrobats and dancers (much easier to replace when they break down) and called it a land.
Quick! Duck! One of the sights that was replaced at Pandora.
And there, it languished. The land was fun to see a show in air-conditioning and sell a shitload of character photos, something they must be making a mint over, because they keep offering it.
This show has been moved to the Africa section of the park-and is still going strong.
But now they decided to do something.
Okay, before I continue, lemme say, there's going to be spoilers, keep that in mind. I'm not going to hold back, here, so, read at your own bloody peril, okay?
But, see, that Harry Potter land, or, now, lands over at Universal? They took business.
It seems people want to see dragons, especially, in droves. And it hurt Disney. It hurt Disney so much that their much ballyhoo'd New Fantasyland didn't even cause a blip on the radar. Disney has ruled this area for so long, they were kicked and shocked that people would cancel two or three days at their Magic Kingdoms to head up the road to see Harry.
Shh, do you think the tourists would notice if we clone a ride from Cali? Nah, what do they know, they're tourists!
Couple that with a looming 50th anniversary that raked in the dough over in California (I would know, I was there), they had to make a decision. They need some major work. Hollywood Studios is getting Star Wars Land and Toy Story Land. EPCOT is looking at, at least, two rumored new countries.
And Animal Kingdom had this space, that's for sure. It's a great little park. I mean that. I say, 'little' as a nicety. It is physically the largest of the theme parks, with huge spaces for the animals to truly roam. But the park access is actually a bit of a slice of it. Massively forested, it holds a change from the rest of the parks, a feel that is truly unique. It doesn't have the dreams that Magic Kingdom does or the amount of intellectual properties therein; it doesn't have the allure of Hollywood majesty and dreaming that is housed over in Hollywood Studios. EPCOT truly holds it's own and is very similar to Animal Kingdom. In fact, my husOtter adores the place.
Animal Kingdom was built on a spirit of discovery, but, unlike the technology vision of EPCOT, here, there are trails that lead to small paddocks holding this animal or that. Storylines, the bread-and-butter of many Disney attractions, are unique. There is a gorilla enclosure made to look like an animal survey team; a private tiger reserve for a mildly Indian kingship is another location.
But there's no Tomorrowland here, folks.
No look to the future of animals and conservation. No intrusion of a possible Utopian future, like you can see over at Magic Kingdom or EPCOT.
That was their angle. Forget the dragons, how about a planet where conservation was also what they were looking into.
Enter: Avatar.
I'm not going to lie to y'all. I thought the movie sucked so bad, I could replace my Hoover on the living room carpet. It was devoid of life or originality. The themes were so simple and bold colored, a neon sign would pale in comparison. Characters were written from the back of a Pop Tart box. You can predict every moment in the film. Avatar was the creation of James Cameron, a filmmaker this film critic has mixed emotions about. The dude cranks out money makers for some reason. But, there are some truly great moments, early in his career. Terminator is it's own world and a terrific cross genre horror sci-fi. Aliens bests the movie it is a sequel to. True Lies is wonderfully creative, playing to the strengths of all the performers. But, like Micheal Bay, Cameron's ego takes over and the set pieces take over and, eventually, distract from the original tale. Titanic cuts zero new ground-but everyone loved it and it became the highest grossing film of all time. And, see, this is why I have mixed emotions about him. He, truly, brings the grand scale of the tragedy to detailed life.
And he made Avatar. A movie that earned even more money than Titanic. He made to be on the big screen, with beautiful 3-D. It's gorgeous. But the story is so bland, I was torn between liking it and wondering why I spent extra money on seeing it in Imax. The story is about a race of aliens, called the Na'vi, that are at harmony with their planet's, Pandora's, environment. Twelve feet tall and blue felines, humans cannot walk amoungst them, since the air is lethal. So 'avatars' are created and humans can control them and fit into their small band and society. But there's still a male dominated society, there's still sexual politics, there're still... us. It was evident that Mr. Cameron did not, at the very least, research indigenous peoples in any manner. Love magically spawns between two people that cannot be more dissimilar and, yes, his ego shines right through the flat motion picture. It was more like a ride at Disney World than an actual movie. Filmed in Imax, as mentioned, and 3-D, the images included us in the tale, pulled us in on a level like never before.
So that's a Na'vi. They look like thin people and just as angry.
We had bizarre alien animals floating around our heads, the lights flew out of the screen and into our laps. A digital acid trip.
Which brings us to this review.
There are no Avatar conventions. No one chooses to be a native Na'vi when they cosplay. They don't study the fictional language, like Klingon.
Yes, I'm making broad generalizations. But, truly, think about it and it's place in pop culture.
If you squint, really hard, you might see a Na'vi. Maybe?
I was surprised when they selected the intellectual property at all. A popular (well, if you look at the cash flow) movie (not critically, me included), licensed it (it is Fox) and just went with it.
Here's the thing.
It works, if only for a bit.
Even with my hardened distaste for the movie, Disney did something with it that even Mr. Cameron couldn't. They made it more interesting. It's much more interesting than the movie, that's for sure. Every optical illusion the movie created? Ever moment of CGI digital amazement?
Created in real time. That jaw dropping concept is right there. See, the planet/moon/whatever, Pandora has lower gravity than Earth. Chunks of the ground float in space.
And they do here, too. In real time. Real plants blend with bleching, glowing mushrooms, and moving roots. Tree stumps echo music when you bounce them like a drum. There's a true sense of place.
One of those fabricated plants that does...stuff.
We were given a 3 hour time slice, but really, I noticed we left early.
Because it is, physically very small. It's vertical, reaching to the sky, but it doesn't spread out. The Imagineers have pathways, this way and that, and photographers everywhere, encouraging further photos, but it's small, like Mickey's Birthdayland or their current Circusland back by the train station in Fantasyland.
What brief tale there is, Alpha Centauri Expeditions (ACE) are offering guests eco-tourism to the small moon. Of course, it's a six month stint in a sleep pod, but that part might have been dropped.
It's so small they built only two attractions, one on top of another. The first plays like an introduction to the imagination behind it, called the Na'vi River Journey. The queue is beautiful, a tent like structure, with wicker folk art that looks like smoke and fire. From the tent? Puft. You are in a cave and it's night. No transition, like on Pirates of the Caribbean. It's a bit jarring. What is also jarring? This is beautiful. That's it. I've heard several complaints, not completely unwarranted, about this. There's no tale to be told, just creative lighting and movement. Strangely, I'm okay with it. I noticed video screens cleverly located throughout the ride, so more story could be added, I suppose, after the sequels finally open. There is a fifth generation audioanimatronic on the ride, but in today's day and age, I don't think everyone really appreciates it. She moves and sings and has a huge range of motion, to the point you begin to wonder if she'll say your name gleaned from your Magic Band ticket. But the lack of a story? Pirates didn't have one when it opened, It's a Small World really doesn't either. I'm okay with it. What is also nice? The boats are only two rows. There's a feeling that this is private and I noticed people speaking in hushed tones.
Someone took time to make this wicker art in the queue at River Journey. And it's beautiful.
The other attraction? The Flights of Passage. At first, like a delicious bottle of Coke, hit me and it was a sugar rush. It's a Soarin' kind of exhibit, a huge screen that flies you out and over the native terrain. It does break some new ground. It's more of a motorcycle seat this time around, not the usual movie seats. There's a small camera, so you can hyperlink to your avatar before riding on one of the dragon-like 'banshees' from the movie. With the new physical placement of the guest, they have added more tactile components. Now you can feel the breathing and heartbeat of the animal you are mounted on, along with the usual tilts and leans. Plus, like Back to the Future and the Simpsons over at Universal, you are broken up into teams of 8 for each experience. That means it feels more like a personal experience, not one that you are sharing with a few hundred sweaty strangers. Lastly, they didn't go the route of some any other attractions, where 'something goes wrong' and the ride's conflict increases. Instead, like the River Journey, you are just flying through some breathtaking visuals. It was evident, here, too, that the images were digitally projected. That means they can replace the film probably with more elements from the sequel.
More wicker art, this one a flying beast, called a Banshee, heralding the start of the queue.
It also shows a confidence. They are going out on a Disney limb here. I admire that and that sways my opinion more positive than negative. They expanded their culinary talents with creative food that are truly creature comforts presented imaginatively-like Japanese bowls of noodles or Chinese "bao" called pods. Drinks dotted with fruit flavored tapioca balls. A creative 'rookery' where you buy the banshee from earlier in baby (puppet) form and have it perch on your shoulder. You can even get a 3-D printed avatar action figure of, well, yourself.
Bao? Bao.
So, yes, massive creativity.
But we still left early.
And, like that can of Coke, I noticed my sugar rush ran flat the closer I got to the parking lot. The scope is there, but why? There's a sense that this is temporary, that there's more to come. And that leaves a bit of something. The potential is there, yes, but I kept wanting more. I heard that there's even more fun at night, with light up pavement and the flora moving. Maybe? Will that make it?
I don't think it's worth of a solitary trip, however. I don't think this is a game changer, something that will lengthen a person's day at the half-day park. I do think it is a wonderful addition and it is impressive. I'm also curious to see what else they will achieve with further updates.
Yeah, I did put a question mark in there. This film, for lack of a better term, rides a very different track that I have to acknowledge before I get down to the review's brass tacks. This particular work appears only on Hulu right now. And I watch it on my television. Only it's not built like a tv show. There's a moment, when you binge watch something on one of these subscription services, where you can see the jet black cutout for a commercial. It was made for and, well, written directly with the concept that there's going to be a commercial. So I know and interpret it as being television. Back in my younger years, when I did summer stock, one of our assignments was to create a soap, to write one of those intricate tales of multiple short scenes. And we were taught, you create from commercial to commercial.
So, even though I was watching this ON my television, it had nothing linked to it being television. In fact, it's episodic nature suggested it could probably be seen as some kind of mini-series.
Fate knows, I loved me some Shogun back in the day. Made me read the book. Couldn't put it down, in fact.
Because it was four thousand bazillion pages.
It's important that link this to the book, that book. See, there's something I've noticed, and maybe I've mentioned it here over time.
See, this particular, I don't know, event-movie, is based on a book that raised in relevancy since the erection of 45. Dystopian novels have made a surge lately. Now, I've noticed that, whenever we have a Flat Earth Society Member in charge, and, yes, I'm looking at you 80s, dystopian tales are back in vogue.
1984.
Blade Runner.
Cyberpunk.
The Giver
Yeah, sure, Dems have movies too (zombie movies...think faceless masses that follow without thinking...wait, that sounds like the GOP too). But I'd like to focus on this aspect. Books. Now, common thought is that the "book was better."
That's usually correct.
It makes sense. Pages of prose elaborate the story so that the reader's journey is eased into the theme with more detail and length. We get it a bit easier. Movies? Not so much. You have dialogue and images. All of it live, before a camera. Severely limiting. However, such a boundary gives the filmmaker a new source of creativity-a way of communicating chosen thematic elements to a movie bound audience.
I, for one, am okay with this. Totally okay. Dances with Wolves is a boring, shit of a journal with scribbled images. Then? The movie gave us those open vistas the protagonist was experiencing. Gone With the Wind? That racist tome? The edges were honed off and the story shone a bit a brighter in the new light.
But let's cut to the television, shall we?
Steve King's Salem's Lot, directed by Tobe Hooper-for television.
SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME. Shogun? Huge book. Huge series. But every storyline was captured and we were able to follow.
The elaboration all ties together, so if you're still with me, here it goes.
The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood, is excellent. And, in part, because the format it is in really enriches it. Currently playing over there on Hulu, they've retooled some aspects, using cell phones and a bit more modern tech, and then showing it being shunned by the Church Elite. Now, in case you are not aware, the book is about a world slightly in the future, where women have finally lost all rights to their bodies. A viral infection is suggested, affecting fertility in the human race and woman are unable to conceive. It's a horrible alternative future, but a possible situation if womens' rights to their bodies are still contested into the next few decades. In this story, abortions are made illegal and any vision of sex as for anything but child creation is criminal. Any sex outside of marriage is seen as rape and men are scratched to death. A new, faith based, theocracy arises and those who don't worship are seen as subversives and punished.
The book is a page turner as it follows one such woman, who is able to have children, so she's enslaved to a wealthy family. She dreams of her past life and only wishes for escape to find the children who were taken away from her. She's labelled a "handmaiden," and forced to work for the upper 1%.
See? Kinda timely as 45 gives us a tax plan that only benefits himself and those who are wealthy.
All the while using the church's pews as his voting base.
Art reflecting life?
The book had already been made into a movie, but, in this case, given the gift of horrible timing, the story can thrive. And especially in this format. Now we can see women and their suffered glances and muffled thoughts, not in a five minute monologue on a cinema screen, but, instead, in the intimate confines of our private homes. Here is where the message is successful.
And what a presentation. As media tries to grow in this new Information Age, this new piecemeal approach is the way of the future. We are basically paying to avoid commercials. But we get something from it. A strong narrative that isn't hung up on advertising and putting Coke cans in the background. The source material is respected and given the beats it needs to help the audience grow in compassion for these young women who are not allowed to think or act for themselves. I like the movie.
If that's what we want to call it. It's well presented, well acted, slickly edited, and, yes, massively timely.
The only thing I see as a drawback? Sometimes a series becomes uneven. It's the nature of the beast. Just some points of a tale are more poignant than others, and, when different directors are involved, there are slight tone changes.
Watch this movie/serial/Hulu thingie. It's good. And it's important.
You know those stupid surveys people fill out on social media? Like, "what size do you like your bread buttered on?" and "what was the last cadaver you dated?"
I love them.
I really do.
I think they are a mirror into the soul, a moment that someone who is not really a talker, can be given an opportunity to just be honest. Every single answer deserves something longer, something thicker, but if you want a two word answer, that, too, can be put into play.
A dear friend, recently under a smattering of stressors posited a decent question of one these questionnaires and I had begun to answer it. But then my impulse led to deep thought and I started looping and looping. The question got bigger and bigger and...
...now we're blogging.
The question:
"What are five movies, and only five, that a person born after 2000 BCE should see?"
No more or further elaboration.
You're asking a cineast to decide this? Okay, okay, okay.
It's been a week.
I elected to, in my own brain's way, put up some barriers to help me decide on what five films would teach a youth about the decades before they existed. I know, and I hope those millennials would too, that movies are fiction and are hyper reality of a time. Idealism abounds. The 50s had a shitload of crime, but most of the time, it was swept under the rug and pop music and drive in movies abounded. The 60s were a time of youthful upheaval, but not everyone was doing the amount of drugs that film portrays.
Now, to further my boundaries, I elected to give fair shake to each decade. Not necessarily a movie FROM that decade, but that might illustrate a time gone by.
I'm reminded of watching the famed horror flick, "Cujo" recently. The entire movie would have been over in about 5 minutes if Dee Wallace Stone had a cell phone with a decent charge going. But the movie takes place in the 80s. An entire decade stuck in cars while there were beasts circling. A moment in time that no one realized.
So? I found five.
Hairspray (the musical version) a movie that hits the highlights of a decade with a light touch but much deeper themes. I had imagined "Grease" might also work, but the more I thought about the time period they were representing, and the 50s up there was a bit too lily white. There was some deep, deep issues going on 50s, but white priveldge didn't let the world know. Integration was underway in many American cities and the stress was visible-but popular culture, run by the Caucasian exes in entertainment, used media to lock in their views. This musical is a great way to see that strange, weird time and how it brought about change by merely existing-everything was going to explode eventually.
Plus, believe it or not, it's a great musical. Fuck. I mean it had Jon Travolta in drag.
The Graduate-to represent the 60s, I thought about mentioning M.A.S.H., an incredible film about the stupidity of war, just like Catch 22. However, M.A.S.H., bolstered by superior performers on television, was much better there. And Catch 22 was incredible filmmaking about the same issues, to some extent, but the book ruled.
There's something thematic about the movie that truly encapsulates the angst of youth in a scant two hours. You have the youth, just graduated and without purpose. Doing what the generation did prior and realizing, quickly, the previous generation is clueless to the realities of the 60's. The youth played brilliantly by a very young Dustin Hoffman, slowly finds that money is not the goal in life, love. Only that is a perilous path, as he begins a brief affair with his neighbor's wife-and sees, also, how barren and cold the generation before him is. It's an amazing picture. There's a brevity to it, an approach which widens the title to a much larger audience, but the undercurrents that young people that very day were experiencing where right there, too.
Taxi Driver-Take what you had in the 60s and let it run loose. Let the promisciousness that was suggested, a rising drug culture, and a profound sense of angst that was never resolved with the free-wheeling 60s and you arrive at Taxi Driver. Martin Scorsese had not defined his style yet, but it's still there, leaking onto the screen. A listless taxi drive, unable to cope with the depravity of the world around him revolts, violently. With the incredible talents of Robert DeNiro, the movie is stark and dreary, but the feelings are true. He was told, if he did right, worked hard, that society would pay him back with money and life.
Obviously, the dream was broken.
The piece becomes even more profound with the case of America at this very moment. Where people in one particular party still seems to believe that if you work hard, you can rise above poverty and glut. Alas, that is not the case. And, in America, where guns are so much around, the response, encouraged by the politicians, is violence. And Travis Bickle, the driver, does exactly that.
It's not pretty. But it is a fascinating study. A moment in time, captured like lightening in a bottle. Do the Right Thing When AFI started releasing their self-aggrandizing lists of this famous part of the movie or that, their very first list was about the best American movies, ever.
It was a disgrace. Like so many Oscars over the years, it was so white, sheet ghosts would cover their eyes. Alas, the movies they did pick were very, very good, defining the world of cinema, but it also painted a picture that was not totally representative of the audiences that went to these movies. Every white male protagonists jumped onto that screen. Even the one ethnically diverse title, "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?" A film about interracial marriage, was focused on it's white stars.
A great movie.
But this movie was left off the list. With Do the Right Thing, a young college filmmaker, Spike Lee, brought the world with him to see the world though his eyes. In the film, a young black New Yorker, on the hottest day of the year, notices that the local pizza joint doesn't have a single black person on the wall, only Italian Americans. As the day progresses, a series of events escalates racial tensions and this becomes the target for a horrible surge of violence.
In the middle of it, was the simpliest solutions. All he had to do is hang a small picture and say, "honorary Italian." And he could have gathered the respect of the community he was catering too.
Alas, this 80s movie showed something daring and different. The voice of a minority filmmaker. The ongoing tensions over race that, actually, can be quite simply overcome by just recognizing each other as whole people. There's a brisk pace to the title, carrying it beyond it's serious subject, and I find that it really does capture those late 80s. That there was a problem, a lack of respect going on with several fronts.
An issue that could be so solved if we all just made an effort to get along.
Fight Club: I love my stuff. And, through reading and meditation, I'm learning to keep my loves focused. TO not want money or the big items, but know that my husOtter and corgis are all worth the effort. Make just enough to put decent food on the table, but nothing beyond that.
But, during the 90s? Well, let me put it to you this way-how do you get a democrat elected for a second term? You make sure that everyone is getting money. Watch soulless Republican bigots suddenly vote when their coffers are full! The Religious Right even turned a cheek when Clinton was found having relations with his employees, cause, well, they could keep their Lexus.
That was was the 90s. Nothing so two faced as it was. All the assholes were suddenly playing nice to the nice and back and forth.
And this movie mimicked it with abandon. Here was the very nice, unnamed, Narrator, who seeks solace and cannot, for the life of him, figure out why he is so unhappy with all the wonderful things around him. He joins support group after support group in a grimly, darkly comedic romp and finds a woman with something similar. And, on a particularly fateful flight, he bumps into the ruggedly handsome soap salesman, Tyler Durden.
They fight. Physically and repeatedly. People watch and start their own fight clubs, where they just-fight. And through that, experience a kind of catharsis. These groups come to realize that, given nothing by society, their rage cannot be contained.
There's a delicious twist to all of this, but you'd have to just watch.
Now there's more I'd love to elaborate on, here, but the fact is, they asked for five. These are they. The 00's aren't represented, but shouldn't be, really. Understand, too, these are not my favorite movies, just the ones that captured their decade in a very specific moment.
Seems I pointed out my aggravations about one of those stupid, insipid "Thank You for Coming to the Movies." I cannot remember what I wrote, exactly, but it was along the lines of, "if you actually made original content, maybe more blokes would buy fucking tickets, oy!"
The takedown was obvious, but I was too melonheaded to see the sucker punch. It was, basically, "why would I take my family of four to some shitty movies that I don't know will be worthwhile or not."
I think I retorted, "fucking read," but I deleted it.
But they were right, technically. Why would you? I started to put tartar sauce over my adverbs and began to think how to pepper my nouns for the luncheon of my own verbal spasms. Movies are, technically a crapshoot, and I had forgotten that. It's easy for me to whine and demand original content. I have only me and the husOtter to splurge on the large popcorn. But I also love the fucking movies. I read about them, stare at their websites, update myself on EW and TMZ.
But others? An open weekend? They may only know if a movie is animated.
And that's it.
Which brings me to this movie review. We treated ourselves to A Star Wars Story: Rogue One this past Chrsitmaskkah eve.
And it was glorious. I know the Star Wars, the first original trilogy, pretty well. I would splurge watching it every Sunday, when I had to run the vacuum or clean the aisles, at the video store I worked in during high school. I knew Darth Vader was Luke's father, I knew that many Rebel spies had died to get those plans to the Rebellion.
But what a different track each prequel would take.
See, Lucas, in desperate need for a new house, went ahead and gave us some pretty nifty prequels in the previous decade. I will tell you this, they looked beautiful. And, not only that, they were entertaining. But, really, I knew what was going to happen. Seriously. Anakin was going to become Darth Vader if his modeling career didn't come first and he could stop whining. Natalie Portman was just doing it for the residual paychecks, so she could make serious fare.
You better WERK! WERK IT, GRRL!
It's like when a car gets hit on the train tracks. You had to see this coming from a mile away! Why did you drive onto the tracks! How could you not have known what was going to happen in these prequel titles, either? Lucas showed us the outcome, and then the income.
Nothing lasted, thematically, in these prequels. It was like a very small cookie. Tasted great for a bite. Then, well, buy it on DVD or something.
Then? Then there was Star Wars: Rogue One.
See, Disney took over the franchise and they are into having just as many houses as dear Mr. Lucas. But they also know that fanboys like me can light up the blogosphere with a bit of a Twitter. So? What does the House of the Mouse do?
Contracts out. They go find young writers, directors, and newbies and give them a budget that makes them wet their pants and behave really, really well. And, by removing the great PooBah of Lucas, Disney gets something else. Someone who isn't close to the work and can see it with a clear and original and creative eyeball.
Rogue One is that piece.
See, with the other prequels? I knew. I read the tea leaves and the palmistry. In fact, I remember getting up to get food and go have a smoke....twice during Attack of the Clones. And I didn't ask what I had missed when I returned.
Writers matter. Those prequels did not have an author. They had a wunderkind.
These screenwriters for Rogue One, Chris Weitz, Tony Gilroy, John Knoll, and Gary Whitta took a story you THINK you'll predict and gave it an edge. They had enough mythos tucked away so that fanboys like myself (Yes, I watched Clone Wars and Rebels, also complete and original outings no where near Lucas' fickle typing fingers) would feel we're part of a larger universe, but newcomers and non-fans can see an old fashioned space opera with spaceships and laser blasts.
In this title, we have the story of the spies, led by Felicity Jones, playing the character Jyn. She's had a rough childhood, a rebel in her own right, living on the streets. But she's got a decent reason. Her father was an engineer who designed a super weapon to instill fear throughout the universe by way of the Empire. The rebellion needs to see him, stop this potential threat and enlist her help.
Does this super weapon that can destroy planets make my Empire look big?
The story is a spy movie, an actioner, that does, well, it's a gimmie that there's a bit of planning that goes into the tale, and because of that, the second act does get burdened down by a bit of tale-telling. This is alright, it had a third act that, well...
...yes, writer's matter. Because it is just a prolonged battle scene. I knew, in the back of my mind, that, as was to be predicted, many spies would die. But the filmmakers, under the horror director, Gareth Edwards, keep us wondering, if, yes, just a few might actually survive this.
That says something. That means the filmmakers, writers, performers, producers, and director gave us, in the audience some slice of the unknown, something unpredictable. We appreciated that, for we kept our eyes on that flickering screen.
This is one of the reason we buy large popcorns and sit in the front row. This was going to the movies. A swelling of music, a rush of adrenaline, yes, I liked the movie. There are just so many great bits to it.
For example, the video games are bogged down with everyone wanting to be a Sith Lord or Jedi and that means...yes, there's a shitload of Sith Lords and Jedis and the MMORPGs suck large moosecock. Not here. Not a Jedi in sight. There's a Jedi Temple guardian, but nothing more.
A beach battle is going really well, until, well, the camera follows one performer's line of sight out and up, and, towering above him, is an AT-ACT. A monster and it opens fire. Gareth Edwards cut his teeth on Godzilla and he knew how to illustrate the menace of immobile threat the size of a skyscraper.
ANOTHER diverse cast. A lead who is Mexican; a female heroine. Disney, in this department, is getting it.
I wouldn't mind them putting together a whole series of 'offshoots' from the main storyline. If it has this quality, I will be satisfied.
Yes, I learned my lesson. Yes, sometimes reboots are, well, they have the slight predictability that helps get the rows of the house filled. The caveat is, of course, on occasion, you have to mix in a little originality, too. Like here. Keep it going, people.
Yeah, the old DJ here is playing requests. One of my fans seems to have asked me, in my grand and infinite knowledge to list three really good scary movies they could rent or watch.
Of course, they would ask when request this when the MotherUnitPrime was visiting and we know how well that goes. But it did buy me some time to really kinda dwell on what they were inherently asking. Art, as a rule, should spark emotion. It's one of it's main purposes. To find what makes our hearts tick and to recreate that sensation, often times, repeatedly. Sometimes that emotion is love, empathy, sadness, or, in the case of this political season, derision. There's nothing wrong with this. I like to think that's what the world is about. Keeping that thought and definition of art, I sought out titles that, at one point, made me shiver with emotional fear.
I'm a bad person to see a scary movie with. Sure, sure, sure, I jump with the rest of the audience at the right time. I say, "ew" at the right use of gore. But I'm too analytical and that sometimes hurts me. I know, as that poor man is walking alone from his dorm that fateful night, there's a cameraman, a director, a script person, and a special effects supervisor ready with the fake blood pump.
I know. I just killed the moment for you, didn't I?
The fact is, with that concept, I sometimes get pulled out of the movie. It's when I'm too absorbed, when all the ingredients hit the same stride of acting chops, decent writing, strong direction, and technical confidence, and forget, for a brief moment, that I'm watching a work of fiction. When I care if that young lady gets help across the street; should the dog live; stuff like that is when I know-yeah, you have a good scary movie.
And, no, I won't resort to Mariah Carey's Glitter. Scary for a totally different rubric.
Something else? There's way too much scifi on the list. I guess that says soemthing about how I view the future or something.
10.) World War Z Okay. I'm lying, right off the bat, with this movie. The movie I should be mentioning is the one that got me in elementary school. That one night I couldn't sleep. This was before any kind of channel selection. Before any ability to decide what I wanted. I just clicked on a black and white movie and there was the brother, saying, "they're coming to get you Barbara!"
I was intrigued.
And my little self did not sleep that night. The scar had been cut into my psyche. I still watch the movie when it is available and the husOtter is far from the television.
But here's the thing. When VHS came around, and rewatching things on YouTube ad naseum, the flaws started to flake off and I started to see where the movie could have cleaned up some. That's not a bad thing, folks. Look at Star Wars. Led up to a terrific love triangle and then...two are (ewwwww) related.
Some fucked up authoring, right there.
Time passes and this movie pops up onto my radar. Now, don't get me wrong, there's a crapload of horror movies out there prior to this moment, but this one? This one took the trope and refined it as a hurried moment that is buried in the story. Finally, all of those week ends of the tale, like what the fuck was happening with everything was suddenly sorted out. Now? I got to see it with a more global view. Better? It had an ending that actually worked and gave a, albeit small, closure.
9.) Invasion of the Body Snatchers (70's remake)-Lately, if you haven't been following, I've been very critical of Hollywood. More bent on cash flow, they're remaking movies left and right, realizing that people aren't willing to risk paying such expensive ticket prices on a movie that is, well, a risk.
Sometimes there's a payoff. Hey, I'm not stupid. And sometimes, well, there's a sheer money grab.
Then there was this great 70's movie, with Donald Sutherland. It took a great horror movie from the 50s and turned into our biggest fears, right there, when our biggest fears were being played out in real life. People were turning on one another. The children of the 60s were now the adults of the 70s and they feared, still, each other. And, like World War Z, there's a sense of scope, that makes escape totally impossible. Shiploads of alien pods being set up and people being dragged in for "health screenings" where they are given drugs to help them sleep. And...oh, my spine's tingling.
Sounds so much like when you find out your friends are for Frump. And they have been silent for so long.
8.) The Exorcist-Here's the thing about this movie. The movie itself fails to scare a jaded audience that's been watching this year's political races. But there's something deeper that it hits. I think it might be better to mention other titles out there that play the same horrors to much better and much more modern affect, like the terrific Conjuring 1 and 2, but I'm talking about finding yourself the original.
There's an art film, the first horror movie ever to nominated for Best Picture, but, again, it was symbolic of the fears that were coming to light in the 70s. The youth culture now had become an enemy within the Nuclear Family, literally, a little monster upstairs that wants to upset the wealthy status quo.
And only religion can quell it.
And that's only on the analogy front.
It's also a scary as fucking a chainsaw. Jolts? We got them. What's even better? There's no stalking. And the good guys HAVE to go into the room and face the possessed child. No turning back. All tightly packed. Good stuff, yo. Enjoy.
7.) Twilight Zone-The Movie Not what you expected, is it? The Twilight Zone was a terrific program back in the 50s and 60s that took the hottest topics of the day and turned them on their heads with delicious creativity and sparsely used horrific mystery. The filmmakers of the 80s had grown up on their imaginations of the darkest corners of the mind and made four short films that were of the highest production values of anything on the screen at the time. Three were outright horror and one was a wonderful amalgam between horror and children's movies that enlightens but horrifies with it's implications.
All of the movies are excellent.
But let me direct you to the last segment, "Horror at 30,000 Feet." In it, one of the greatest horror performances I've ever seen.
See? I have this brother, we'll call him Yutzface, who is petrified to fly. Scared to no end.
And John Lithgow is him. The man, scared beyond belief during a thunderstorm while flying, looks out and sees a monster on the wing of the aircraft.
The piece is directed by Mad Max creator, George Miller, and is an exercise in horror. No body count. No more than a cabin on a plane in a very, very bad situation. Fuck Snakes on a Plane. This will make you freak out until the plane....you'll see.
And, you know what? The other films are damn good, too. The first segment, by John Landis, shows a Donald Trump type, a racist bigot, suddenly get zoomed back in time to experience everything everyone else who was a minority has experienced. Spielberg is in there too, with a meditation on aging and the mind which is not scary, but has spooky overtones. There's another short, by Joe Dante, about a boy who wishes things into existence. Again, no body count, but a delicious piece of scares. Watch. Enjoy.
6,) Drag Me to Hell Ah, good old Sam Raimi. See, VHS killed the horror flick. Made on the cheap, horror movies became like pornography in the 80s, easy to come by and not very creative. That's where Sam came in. He made a cheap zombie movie (really, only one zombie, too), called The Evil Dead. But it was like Georgio Romero's Night of the Living Dead. A piece of pure creativity. And he didn't stop there. He went on to make movie after movie as a writer, director, producer.
The experience meant that he could get creative with each moment.
And then he made Drag Me to Hell. A tale about a woman who is not a saint, so her punishment isn't wholly excused, makes an executive banking decision that hurts the financial situation of an old immigrant. Shades of life today, where corporations make the call without the full story. The old gypsy curses her to a series of spectral punishments for over a week until the devil carries her off to the world of the dead. The scares are real, the story flows from incident to incident, ratching up the nightmares like a Hitchcock film. Is there a body count? Not really. But the invisble demons making havoc are worth the nightmares. Give it a go.
5. It Follows A simple premise that follows many modern horrors. As soon as the female lead has sex, the nightmares begin to taunt her. In this situation, a lisless night out with a boy who disappears gives her nightmares and this oncoming feeling of dread. Then things start to happen, like a stalker. She thinks it was the boy-and when she finds him, she realizes that there's a beast out there that follows a person until they couple with someone, and then follows the next victim until the someone is dead. The horror is too real for any woman who just has that one guy they need to escape from.
4. Jesus Camp I used to love Vacation Bible School. It was a great way to start up several bromances, hot teens I could hang with and yet leave at the end of the day without having to worry about the algebra on page six. Basically it was a church oriented mildly mature babysitting service. Made sense. They could earn a few bucks, and those pesky teens, prone to the evils of free time in the summer, won't get involved in any kind of shenanigans.
The key? The church could earn a few bucks.
Our current vice schmuck, Pense, see, is part of the board of one of those money makers-Focus on the Family. They have a pretty extensive cash cow out there in bogus gay conversion therapies and, why, yes, look, gay conversion therapy made it to the GOP platform.
Same for these camps. Tax free money for the higher up. And, just like any drug addict, you can get the kids addicted to church going and afraid of not doing otherwise. An ongoing source of funds, all motivated by fear and guilt.
Not unlike my mother's parenting styles.
Jesus Camp is a different kind of horror movie, albeit an unintended one. It's actually a documentary about several of these camps in the town of Devil's Lake, North Dakota. Yes, cut off far from the real world, so the kiddoes wont' escape. They minister to these children, screaming and yelling and making them cry, instilling that fear.
Remember, these tend to the GOP members that say they fear the indoctrination of children into the Islamic faith.
The stench of the horrors coats you and, by the end, you want to vomit, even though you've not seen a single piece of gore throughout the film. The horror is real. These people will be bringing their children into your hometown. At one point, a young girl, 7 or 8, starts to 'minister' to an older woman at a bowling alley. This is setting her up to be a victim. But the parents encourage it. It's a nightmare to behold.
3.) Poltergeist The thing I enjoyed about movies like Coraline, the Conjuring 1 and 2, even the Exocist, is that, even though the scares are real and the nightmares are right before us, there's no high body count. Surely, the stakes are medium, but more for something intangible. Our spirits. Really, I have yet to find a horror movie that is worthwhile with ghosts. The Sixth Sense is excellent, but really, the score of the movie is wide and vast.
But Poltergeist is a delicious, old school haunted house tale. Gory, monstoours, and moving at an incredible clip, it covers a ton of ground in a short amount of time. It's so good that old story tropes appear again, and are told so creatively and novel, we don't mind, but we suspect where the tale is going from the very beginning. There's also a deeper allegory of how the family is separating itself from the traditional past-escaping if you will-and forging ahead into one with technological horrors. Great scares, clear writing, a sight to behold.
2.) Silence of the Lambs Rarely is the movie as good as the book, but when you have a team like John Demme has assembled, this movie rips through the Oscars like bullet to the brain. Top notch performers give career changing performances and, yes, well, the movie reads just like the book it's based on. The true horror is not the serial killer, but the fact that the federal government has one locked up in Pennsylvania and are using him for information. A dangerous liaison develops and the symbolism begins-two wrongs don't right a situation.
What's better? By having the crafted hands of Anthony Hopkins play doctor Hannibal Lector (a character so good, they keep bringing back with terrible sequels and awful television programs, jsut to milk the franchise-fuck them all, come back to this point and see where the horrors began) for a mere 8 minutes of movie time, shows a confidence. He doesn't do a thing from his cell, but he's more threatening in language (thanks to an excellent script) than an angry man with a pistol. His physicality, limited to that tiny room, means the performer has to fill the space with manic energy and, yes, you start to become scared every time the police interview him. To combat that, they bring a young cadet, played by Jodie Foster, who is also so skilled, that you fear for her life.
Incredible stuff.
1.) The Thing Supposedly this is the horror movie ever made, and I tend to agree. A lone artic science base finds a stray dog being chased by a Norsk helicopter and save it.
The dog kills the other dog and escapes. Seems the Norweigns found an alien buried for a few centuries under the ice. A creature that can shape shift into any other creature.
And the adventure is on. Here we are talking about art and I cannot thank John Carpenter enough for his skill. You have all the needed requirements for horror, isolation, paranoia, lack of trust, increasing violence, and a setting of dread. A beautiful score and mostly unknown performers means we're not sure what to expect. Only one really famous name (Kurt Russell), so, we, as an audience, will guess he'll survive. But the rest of the movie? Who will? Since any of the teammates can be the alien as it expands its grasp, what can they do to find the truth?
Themes I'm noticing here? I'm very, very frightened by large groups of people doing bad things. Sorta like Washington. Or? Not necessarily bodies piling high, but spirits being torn. Better? Lotsa small room horrors, stuff that's up close and personal.
It's why it is so popular during big election years.
Recently, I whined a bit too. Not because of Trump's obvious stupidity, but because something dear to my heart. I had gone to see Disney's wonderful Finding Dory, but there was the film's director right up there on the screen and he was, personally, thanking me, for coming to see his movie.
My kvetch? It would be nice that he didn't have to thank me. He could, you know, just make a movie and we'd go.
Sorta like a cornfield out in Iowa with a baseball diamond.
"If you build it, they will come."
My whine was simple and I was taken to task on it. The crux of it was thus: I'm tired of retreads and sequels. But in the space of a Tweet, I cannot detail the depth of my concern or be able to elaborate. The argument they (my friends) made was especially valid and, to some extent, I do agree. They pointed out that Hollywood is playing it safe. It's better to spend the money on something with a seeded fanbase than to put the dough on a novelty. Franchises, like McDonald's and Burger King are dying across the nation, but in the movies, it's what they're looking for. My friends pointed out that it's expensive to see movies, especially with a family of four or more on something that it is not tried and true or remotely true.
I get that.
My argument is still the same, however. There needs to be more originality in Hollywood and less business. If we look at from a business aspect? Yes, I get it. I don't, however, have to like it. And I don't want to be thanked before every picture.
I'm smart. I like novelty and new and art. This is all very easy for me to say and believe this. I think people go to sequels and reboots for these reasons, but, also, because there's nothing else out there to go see. Original titles do seem to jump to the screen during the Oscar run. So there is that.
I should also point out, reboots and sequels do have a place in my universe. Please, where would my soul be without the Star Wars saga? Porn itself is terribly repetitious, really a bit "hard" to find something new in that genre, ahem. Same with horror movies. But, sometimes, just sometimes, the character is befit a sequel. We want to take the journey again.
I also think of that one time I ended up a teacher's aid and projectionist for a Film Appreciation course.
I took the final, passed, and they let me stay, ahem to earn some money.
Anyhowitzer, we played the movie North-By-Northwest and several people in the audience noticed that Eva Marie Saint had on heels during a pivotal chase scene. They could not embrace the time and the fact that, when this movie came out, Hitchcock movies tended to have juicy roles for women when such things were rare (and, sadly, still are...but we'll elaborate about that in a minute). It led to a moment in the film where she fell, which lead to an increase in the tension on the face of Mount Rushmore-but those in the audience, whilst liking the movie, had not reached that level, yet.
And I learned, as I saw that happen from my little booth above the classroom, that reboots could do something very powerful. Imagine if that audience had seen a reboot with much of the same key elements thrown in. That audience would really 'get it.'
They can introduce and update classics to a new audience. Hitchcock, in my belief, would be awesome to remake nowadays. His themes about the loss-of-self and identity theft are perfect in our digital world. With a handsome lead like Tom Cruise on vacation with his wife in Morocco and someone runs up to him on whispers in his ear and then is killed-puft The Man Who Knew Too Much. Channing Tatum flirts with a nice young lady at a PetSmart before heading home to visit on his weekend with his daughter in Bodega Bay, bringing a pair of cute little lovebirds he purchased. The young lady leaves PetSmart, googles the name on the credit card and starts to follow. And gets attacked by birds in the parking lot as she pulls into town to get gas. BOOM! The Birds returns. Do it in 3-D and in Imax. Get a maximum scary soundtrack and release it in July, with air conditioning blasting.
See? It has a place.
When it's thought out.
Which brings us to this week's review: Ghostbusters.
No new title. No "The Next Generation." No Part two, three, or four or whatever.
Just a reboot.
And not a very good one. It's, well, it's alright. I really wanted to like this movie; I wanted it to prove me wrong. I'm always rallying that there needs to be more women's roles out there. And when I heard this was coming, I was geared.
'Cause I love ghosts, too. A strong cast was listed, but, well, the whole set up was awkward.
And it didn't play to their strengths.
It exists in a world where there is no Ghostbusters, so they were starting up from scratch. In it, someone, a random character is trying to bring about the usual Apocalypse, but by making accelerated machines that bring spirits over to this plane of existence.
And our characters figure out the scheme.
They have cool equipment, to be sure, but it's not really explained. It makes me wonder if the writers were given the script as an assignment, like homework for school, and just followed the outline that the teacher gave them. In no short order, the assignment for the script asked for:
logo generation
equipment creation
the end of the world
places for cameos that do not further the story
no onscreen deaths, even if we're talking about ghosts
no scares, since kiddos need to buy the toys
special car
firehouse where it happens
a visit by the mayor
All the things that happened in the first movie.
Ideally a few ways could ahve been approached. Make it sequel-that ghosts don't exist any more, but are slowly coming back. How's about it's original in the fact that the bad guy actually helped develop some of the tech they are using?
Humor is lacking but comedy is based on conflict, but all of the characters get along, so there's nothing there. Chris Hemsworth has some fun by showing up as the blond secretary, playing against horrible female stereotype (and nice part of the film, actually). But the two best friends who separated, Melissa Macarthy (who I adore, but here just complains) and Kirsten Wiig (who I also adore, but does nothing particularly funny-was she supposed to be the straight man) just don't click.
I will say that that Kate McKinnon is a surprise to behold. She takes something that could be stock and turns it into a random, confident, event. Get this young person in more movies, people. She's magnetic. Also a nice surprise? Leslie Jones. An SNL alum, gets a pretty poorly written character. African American, she's appears uneducated and that bothered me. But, again, there's a personality there and she doesn't come off as one-note. She, too, needs more screen time, SOMEWHERE. I liked her, despite everything. I would like to have known why she suddenly felt kinship with the rest of the cast. Instead, she just shows up, asks for help on something she observed, and....joins the team.
Huh?
It's these kinds of plot loopholes that make the tale fall sour.
It's not a total loss. Like I said, these stars are massively likeable, so it's like hanging out with old friends. And since it's a reboot, that works too.
And special effects wise, this was a beauty to behold.
But I'm still stuck on why did the bad guy use ghosts to bring the end times?
The whole thing is awkward. Don't get a comedy writer to write a ghost story, I guess.
Yes, I'm looking at you, Kevin Smith. And, apparently you, Paul Frieg.
So it, too, is the middle of the road. I'm kinda hoping for a sequel, thinking they can get another run at this. They have great performers, images that are awesome. But, yet again, poor writing drags it all through the mud. ARGH!
