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The Marvels (2023)
Terrific film, I highly enjoyed it.
Brie Larson, Iman Vellani, and Teyonah Parris lead a fantastic cast in Marvel's latest big-screen adventure epic, THE MARVELS, now in theaters. Loaded with action and unburdened by plodding exposition, this film is a female-led rampage of cosmic proportions, featuring the tying up of loose-ends from past films that we all crave, as well as set-ups galore for films to come.
I don't need to give you a plot synopsis, everyone else does that. I will tell you that this film is pure entertainment, and you should go see it. As to the merits of the film itself, I am delighted to say I was thoroughly entertained and unable to sneak out at any point to use the john (which I very much needed to do.) The action is fast, fun, and lucid throughout. Director/author Nia DaCosta has crafted a frantically-paced 105 minute rollercoaster that rampages across the galaxy before returning to Earth for the atomic-powered climax.
The pace, in fact, was the toughest part of the film. There is no let-up, it's all non-stop velocity. There's a reason films have quiet moments, even if they are as short as a long fade-out between scenes. It's to give the viewer a break to catch the breath, to relax for a second, to process a bit and store info before the next part. We get no such breaks here.
The connections to previous works in the MCU are prodigious and complex, so much so that my own little husband, who has PhD in molecular genetics and a decent memory, was nearly lost several times. Rather than spoon-feeding us the many relationships and plot-points, DaCosta just runs the story at ninety miles an hour, and I suspect, from reading the grouches, that a lot of audience members fell out of the truck along the way. "Write for your best audience" is the axiom she followed, and I, apparently, am that audience. If you're not, I'm really sorry, but I got everything and I LOVED THIS FILM!
Here's a partial list of the shows that are referenced, which you need to have loaded in your memory when you go:
CAPTAIN MARVEL,
MS. MARVEL,
WANDAVISION,
DR. STRANGE IN THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS,
MARVEL'S WHAT IF...?,
GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 1,
SECRET INVASION,
THOR: RAGNAROK, and LOVE & THUNDER,
AVENGERS: INFINITY WARS, and ENDGAME.
The Marvels sports a very diverse and inclusive cast.
Silent Witness: Intent: Part 1 (2010)
silly plot ruins a mediocre story
Poor Harry! Of all the people on this show, the character of Harry was always the most dynamic and fun, yet still dignified. Unlike the Nikki cgaeacte, who needlessly puts herself quite stupidly in jeopardy at the 3/4 mark of nearly every episode, Harry was written as a character with some sense. Not this time! Some dame comes along and spreads her legs, and Harry jumps her bones- in A PARKING GARAGE! And it gets worse by the minute from there. The absolute nadir of the piece is the discovery that the 'murder' was a suicide, followed by the revelation that the death was faked, which is just utterly stupid. All drama requires a suspension of disbelief; but this time it all collapses in a pile of junk.
Silent Witness: Finding Rachel: Part 1 (2008)
Worst episode ever
This show, SILENT WITNESS, started well, with the Sam Ryan character leading the way as a charismatic crusading pathologist seeking justice for the victims on her slab. But this extremely lousy African episode has brought the show to its lowest ebb yet. The story itself is ludicrous: the three Home Office pathologists go haring off to Zambia because a friend of Nikki's from school asks for help finding a missing person! And it's all downhill from there. The dialogue never rises above sixth grade level, and in some places doesn't even sound like english, despite the lack of translation subtitles. Everyone acts stupidly and irresponsibly. Even the scenes of Africa, which the cast is forced to watch with rapt attention as if the view were inspiring, are visually disappointing and dull. The various stock footage of big game critters, all photographed from a distance, are dirty and boring. It's hard to believe this show lasted as long as it did. Skip this steaming pile of guano!
Red, White & Royal Blue (2023)
Texas tops England!
None of you, I'm quite sure, will be shocked to learn that I am gay. This is appropriate to mention only because of the nature of this particular film, RED, WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE. I am not here to tell you the plot, or comment too much on the writing or production. Instead, I want to talk about the thrill of seeing two hot guys kissing and making out in an expensive production.
Taylor Zakhar Perez, this year's version of Justin Baldoni, has finally hit the big time with this Amazon Pictures original. There's another steamboat in the movie (Nicholas Galitzine), but believe me, this is Taylor's show. Tall and lean and beautiful, the man commands the screen from start to finish in his first starring vehicle. He's so hot, in fact, that the real mystery here is why he isn't already married and trailing a line of disappointed ex-suitors! Poor Galitzine seems nervous and grumpy much of the time, probably because he was expecting to be the Hot One. Sorry! Maybe next time.
The book RED, WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE by non-binary author Casey McQuiston is just your basic romance novel containing all the requisite steps to the happy ending: Cute Meeting, Initial Hatred, Unexpected Sexual Attraction, Kissing, Separation, Complications, Tears & Pouting, Solemn Slow-Motion Sex, A Last-Minute Desperate Journey, Confrontations, Happy Ending. McQuiston, like most females unfamiliar with the male sex, seems totally in the dark about the way lustful young men ACTUALLY behave together once the clothes are off, but no matter. We're not here for a lesson on sex, we're here for Romance. Luckily, Zakhar Perez's Alex has enough flame-thrower sex-appeal to ignite even Galitzine's wet-kindling Henry. The two men certainly kiss convincingly enough, although I'm still not convinced there was any actual wood on the set, if you know what I mean.
Others can talk about what's in the film, but I want to take a minute to mention some vitally important things that are NOT in this movie, including: a fake wife/girlfriend; a tragic deadly disease; Straight White Males; gay bashers who kill one of the men; and most blessedly, Religion. Finally! A gay romance without one mention of the stupid hatred of modern religious cults toward love!
Director/writer Matthew Lopez keeps the pace fast and sexy until the end, which is good- we don't want to linger over any of the logic in this alleged plot. The lines are good enough to get the points across. The production is Big Money good. 'Nuff said.
Refreshing and breezy, the first two acts detail a very satisfying growing love between two hot, YOUNG men (Wait- what age are they supposed to be? Alex is still in college, but he's 32? The Prince hasn't been forced to marry at the age of 29??) as they sneak around in back rooms and polo gear sheds (total rubbish, of course-secret service and guards? Hello??) and such. But it's a fantasy, so we overlook this dumbness. Inevitably, the script turns to worn-out soap opera garbage in the third act when Henry, in the distaff role, is forced to flee their burgeoning love affair, crying out in anguish, "I can never love you because_______(insert any fake reason here, it doesn't matter which one)!" Clutch pearls, wave tear-stained hanky.
But none of that matters, because we are here solely to drool over Taylor Zakhar Perez (and Galitzine)! These two men have spectactular chemistry together, 100% better than CALL ME BY YOUR NAME.
So hooray for Zakhar Perez and Galitzine! Hooray for seeing two men kiss each other with some actual tenderness and heat! Hooray for seeing The Rest Of Us on screen for once, without one of them ending up dead or forced to marry a girl! Hooray for RED, WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE!
Klondike Annie (1936)
Religion is truly just another form of Show Biz.
For many years, I've watched an old TV copy of this film and thoroughly enjoyed it. When I saw that it had been released on Blu-ray, I immediately bought it, hoping the new version might contain the long-lost scenes cut by censors. Alas, those scenes remain lost. But the print is gorgeous, and the sound is better than ever.
KLONDIKE ANNIE is a fascinating treatise on the power and mechanics of religion in America of the Thirties, written and performed by the great screen goddess of the Depression, Mae West. Having already commented in her previous films, through her medium of sex comedies, on Hollywood, the New York society scene, and small town culture, here West examines organized religion as just another form of Show Business. (And yes, she also finds some screen time to kiss and cuddle with two very virile men.)
In the Hollywood of her time, two powerful competing Abrahamic cults controlled the motion picture industry: The strict patriarchal culture of east European Jews dominated the studio system, and the monstrously corrupt Catholicism of the ascending east-coast American church controlled censorship. West, rejecting the temptation to directly criticize either cult, instead strips down the business of modern religion to its bare bones and puts it on display: Manipulation and self-enrichment achieved through ignorant superstition, passionate emotion, and above all else, human crowd power dynamics.
Of course, West is far too canny to arouse the ire of any one religious cult by using its name and iconography, and so the 'brand' of religion she presents is called the Settlement House, a workable substitute for the Salvation Army. West's protagonist is a professional singer named Rose Carlton, a shady character known as The San Francisco Doll. After performing a number for the customers of the man who is 'keeping her', Carlton goes on the lam from the San Francisco cops aboard a ship bound for Nome, Alaska, during the 1890s gold rush. (The actual seven minute scene in which she kills her captor in self-defense was cut by the censors.)
Onboard the Java Maid, Rose encounters Captain Bull Bracket, played by Victor McLaglen, as well as Sister Annie Alden, played by Helen Jerome Eddy. Annie is a practitioner of the Settlement House, a sort of temperance league/self-help group which spells God with two o's. While fending off McLaglen's impressive attempts to 'rassle her', Carlton makes friends with the female reformer. Initially skeptical of one she sees as a do-gooder, Carlton is soon won over by Annie's genuine concern, kindness, and humanity. When the reformer dies of a heart attack at sea, Carlton, desperate to shake the cops, switches places with her, and thus Klondike Annie is born.
West could have played Annie as a hardened cynic simply out to make a buck, and indeed this is approach Carlton's former associates are all expecting. Fanny Radler (played by the great Esther Howard), the madam operating the 'dance hall' where the miners lose all their money, is rocked back on her heels when Carlton, as Annie, confronts her and demands she serve a better cause: "I speak your language," Carlton growls in West's signature nasal tones. "You'll do what I tell you, if you know what's good for you," she threatens, strong-arming the shadier performers into helping out at the Settlement House. West draws an equal sign in the air between the hookers, their piano players and bartenders, and the ineffective missionaries and reformers at Settlement House. The only difference is the degree of fun offered for sale. Everyone, including the audience, assumes Carlton's Sister Annie act is just a con job.
But what they fail to appreciate is the real sense of obligation Carlton now feels toward the real Sister Annie, who offered the former prostitute friendship and compassion instead of judgement and condemnation. This genuine caring has transformed The Doll for the better. It's one thing to shake down suckers for their cash, whether in a bar or in a church: it's quite another make a true convert. It is this bond of real sisterhood that has converted Carlton, and which galvanizes the woman as she quickly takes the dirty mining town by storm.
At the center of the film is an absolutely perfect extended scene set in the Settlement House, in which Mae assumes the mantle of that most peculiarly American creature, the tent revivalist. Crafty performer that she is, Rose Carlton knows that the only way to juice up the impact of the poorly-attended Settlement House meetings is, literally, to pack the house. This leads to an amusing scene in which Victor McLaglen literally throws and pushes people through the doors of the modestly-sized building, quickly resulting in a capacity crowd.
And that's when the magic happens.
Every performer, whether preacher, politician, singer, cheer leading team or speaker, knows that there is no substitute for the synergy of a tightly-packed human audience. And when West as Carlton as Annie takes the stage, without colored lights, crosses, robes, glitz, or any of the other trappings of formal religion, the magic happens once more. Every performer knows the undeniable power of the audience: every great performer knows instinctively how to unite her audience into a single mighty entity, and then take wing, bringing us along. In the capacity crowd of miners, hookers, and sundry other riff raff, West's Sister Annie character preaches a fiery sermon on the wages of sin, the evils of drunkenness, and the inevitable toll of dissipation. In this scene West fuses song, movement and oratory in the best tradition of southern Black Baptists and other performance-based religions, and her acting and singing is brilliant. Such is the power in the scene that you can see West herself deeply affected by the salvation of her targets.
But, alas, the police are still on her trail, and closing in. The dramatic irony of West's performance quickly escalates as she effortlessly, simultaneously, portrays both the ruthless floozy and the fire-breathing evangelist, switching back and forth sometimes within a single line. Using all the skills of the San Francisco Doll, Carlton makes Annie's mission a roaring success. The tension in her tightrope act only deepens as the danger of exposure and capture by the police grows, and we expect West's character to abandon her Annie act in order to save her own skin. Instead, Carlton commits more fully to her mission of redemption and repayment of the debt she owes Sister Annie, so much so that when the simple miners are inevitably moved to redemption, we also are swept away for a moment, experiencing the undeniable power of West/Carlton's whole-hearted embrace of preaching as another aspect of Show Business. For it is West's own thrilling headlong commitment to preaching that captivates and moves us, rather than the Settlement House's simple message of 'Do Better'.
In the end, Mae West gives us a deep insight into the real power of any and all religions. It's not the silly and dodgy dogmas that each man-made faith invents that can transform lives: it's the one-on-one contact of people who care about people, combined with the transformative magic of a great performer connecting with a packed house.
Others here have commented on the sickening censorship of the film: the Catholic priests in charge of enforcing the Hays code removed the entire scene depicting her murder in self-defense, known to us now only through internal references in the script. The Catholic church, the single largest patriarchal organization on the planet, could never allow the sympathetic depiction of a woman who defies, escapes and kills her male oppressor. The Salvation Army also demanded a scene be cut, when Carlton trades places with the dead Alden. They objected, not to the depiction of their cult as a bandwagon fund raising con, but rather to the woman's corpse being dressed up to look like an entertainer. Go figure.
What these censors left intact is West's display of the bare-fanged struggle at the heart of religion, between personal piety and the Show Business ethic that demands payment for entertainment. Far more damning than Carlton's censored murder scene is West's conclusion that all religious power ultimately comes down to personal contact and sweat equity, and that every sermon in every church is just another show.
No Hard Feelings (2023)
nope
Others have pointed out the sick wrongness of hiring an old woman to seduce a young man. If it were a middle-aged man being hired to seduce a teen girl the world would go up in flames and come down in ashes. But I think they miss the point: MAYBE it would have been ok, if said middle-aged woman approached her sex mission with kindness and love and respect. But absolutely none of that happens here. Instead the rape is played for laughs. Gross.
It's sad that anyone would make this movie. But it's twice as sad that people go to see it! Even though it's toxically disrespectful of men's feelings, people think it's funny. I think it's sick and wrong.
Inspector Morse (1987)
WATCH TAGGART INSTEAD!
INSPECTOR MORSE has been widely lauded as the greatest British crime show. Well, that suggests to me that the Brits love nothing more than a short nap in the middle of a long show, occasioned by dull writing, muddled characters, and a wet old drunk as the hero.
Series one brings us a stumbling drunk, who somehow- mostly by sheer nerve- manages to hit every single woman over the age of five in sight. This is super-cringey stuff, folks. This old man hitting on women a quarter of his age, who stare in astonishment, does not endear Morse to us at all, in fact quite the opposite. And he just gets worse and worse as the show plods along.
A strapping young married cop serves as side-kick for Inspector Sauced. Kevin Whately provides what little cheer and humor there is in this dull drudgery.
By series two, for no apparent reason, we start to get gobs and gobs of religious rubbish from the Catholics. It's all horribly stupid and bizarre, and by the time they get to series three, the scripts are mired in a permanent drunken stupor. The cricket team episode was so boring I fell asleep three times!
Is this the best? Hardly. Compared to a real fire-cracker of a show like TAGGART, this is just third form dreary fumbling.
The Cleaner: The Neighbour (2021)
Show's failing fast!
This was the least amusing of the three episodes we've watched so far. This Brit remake of TATORTREINIGER lacks all of the fresh wit and style of the German original. This episode in particular was painful to watch.
The entire story revolves around the kind of political discomfort that has never been very funny to begin with, and now is just tiresome, obvious and dull. She's in a wheelchair, so he makes endless references to walking and legs and even dogs walking on their hind legs (so gross) and then acts all uncomfortable. BORING!
In addition, the actual cleaning of the crime scene never even occurs in this episode. That's 3/4 of the fun of this tepid show.
Throw in her vegan status which is milked for cheap laughs until the meat-eating 'gotcha' moment and you've got a Schitt's Creek-a-thon with none of the magic of those superior actors.
All thumbs down. Sorry, it sucks.
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 (2023)
The worst one yet, like a rotting carcass discovered in the trash can
I really wanted to like it. But GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 3 is a tedious, overblown failure of a movie featuring a message of intense nihilistic self-loathing and hatred felt by morons toward people who are more intelligent. This CGI mess celebrates the arrogant mediocrity of America's impoverished middle-class corpse, even as it offers the worst possible songs from the ugliest of authors and the most pathetic jokes of bands (The Beastie Boys?! I mean, come on, they were ALWAYS just a joke and nothing else!)
The story is simple, and everyone else has already described it. It's plot 12C, period. "We have to get _____ or _______ will die!"
A lot has been made of the extensive coverage of Rocket's origin story, involving his creation, vivisection, and torture at the hands of the High Evolutionary. I was expecting a lot of feels, but it left me completely cold. The scenes of animal cruelty only registered as shockingly obvious and blatant emotional manipulation with no redeeming value whatsoever. If there had been any emotional or political or even personal consequences to the abuse, it might have mattered: but as it was, it was simply, "This is why I'm such a jerk." Sorry, not buying it, no sale.
The saddest part of this failure is that the excruciatingly slow and tedious scenes of baby animals and tortured mutated ruined creatures could have had a point, if the film had dared to tie it to the abominable practice of corporations and medical research doing animal torture/testing, but Gunn has no such courage. Instead of corporate greed, Gunn heaps opprobrium on The High Evolutionary, an obvious patsy for The Intellectual Elite and their unknowable Science, which must be evil, since morons can't understand it.
The most horrific failure of the film, besides its putrid collection of loser anthems passing as a soundtrack, is its gung-ho glorification of Tribalism. This is the existential problem that is destroying America right now, and you'd think anyone with any sense would address its toxic consequences. But not James Gunn- he's all for it! It's very obvious here that every single person animal and other creature in Gunn's world is neatly divided into Us and Them. The Us crowd (by which he means 'murica) deserves love and loyalty and all things good, while the Them people deserve only violence, hate and deceit. A utilitarian exception is often made in Tribalism for Children and Baby Animals, who may be worth sparing, if they are young enough, because they can be fully indoctrinated into the Us Group. Every one else gets casually and horrifically blasted to death or worse.
GOTG3 is a sickening mirror of the America First movement, revolting in its clarity, prescient in its ruthless hatred of everyone that is Not Us. As I said, the music flat out stinks. The full-on CGI makes this a sophisticated cartoon most of the time, but with lots of blood and gore and garbage. There's no acting here, either. By and large, every character in the film bellows or screams constantly, probably because the noise of the 'soundtrack' is so hideous. Things are constantly exploding and pointless, confusing battles scramble endlessly across the screen with no sense of story or meaning. It's just totally boring after a while. The film is at least an hour too long, and all of it is these pointless CGI fight scenes. As for the stories of our 'heroes'? Nothing new, jut same old same old. It's all utterly predictable and boring. The actors are just here picking up a paycheck, because Gunn obviously checked out years ago.
VERDICT: Humiliating end to a good franchise, proving once more you can't make heroes out of zeroes.
tick, tick...BOOM! (2021)
Andrew Garfield is a god.
Tick, tick... Boom! Is a musical very loosely based on the bio of totally uninspired but highly ambitious New York composer Jonathan Larson, whose sole (and highly questionable) claim to fame is that he wrote the musical "Rent", which I also very much dislike. Though the film is filled with cinematic zip and sparkle, provided by director Lin-Manuel Miranda, Tick, Tick...BOOM! Would have been as instantly forgotten as all of Larson's song if it were not for the brilliantly kinetic Andrew Garfield, who elevates the doomed hack's story with a joyous and heart-wringing performance overflowing with singing and dancing genius.
Using a lot of bad, unpublished (for good reason!) music, the movie consistently reveals that this schmuck Larson has no real talent, yet he still absolutely believes he's a genius. Perhaps he was chronically over-praised as a child? In addition to his lack of talent, Larson is also so neurotically obsessed with turning 30 that he nearly has a complete mental and emotional breakdown as the irrelevant milestone approaches.
The plot of the film/musical is largely mundane and really quite irrelevant: An average New York schlub is desperate to write a musical that will make him famous. That's it. No tragedy here, folks, just ambition unmatched by talent, a very old story indeed. The tragedy of this film is not Larson's wasted life: it's the fact that Andrew Garfield exemplifies all the talent and genius that the Larson character so miserably lacks as he lives in his lousy apartment, ignoring his (ridiculously hot, as if!) girlfriend, and having a miserable life with people he can't really relate to. To broaden the misery, he works at a grungy diner so that we can have big chorus numbers.
It's all even more cliched than Larson's musical style, which I would describe as the kind of bland, corporate rock music you hear as you're boarding an airplane, just before some jolly baritone's canned recording welcomes you to Blah Blah Airline, Where Flying Is Blah Blah. Every single song in this film sounds exactly the same--inane, muddled, noisy and boring.
Fans of Andrew Garfield will revel in his beauty and charisma, even as they pity and reject Larson for the loser he was. I am giving this 3 starts ONLY because Garfield shines so brightly.
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017)
Good effort wrecked by daddy drama
The first two acts of this sequel are fun, light, breezy and delightful. The returning cast all make fine inroads developing their characters, and many of the returning peripheral characters are top-notch as well.
To long-time star Kurt Russell falls the pitiless task of portraying Peter Quill's father, and though he is more than up to the job, Russell is given only the stupidest of dialogue and character to work with. Perhaps this isn't surprising, as we have already noticed in previous excursions that Peter is rather a dim bulb himself, in addition to his obvious emotional damage.
The story skips along pretty well, and the film entertains almost effortlessly until the climactic third act, when the daddy-drama grinds the entire thing to a hideously boring halt. Not only do we have to watch the agonizingly slow movement of straight men trying to process their emotions, but we have to watch Peter lose his Daddy TWICE! Watching grass grow would be more fun.
The only thing that saves the third act at all is Taserface. I won't say any more, because even with spoiler alerts, it's too delicious.
Gunn obviously has metric tons of unresolved father garbage o deal with. I just wish he hadn't done it on film.
Beef: The Birds Don't Sing, They Screech in Pain (2023)
Bad start leaves me not wanting any more.
It's a simple and natural premise (if you live in one of the huge cities of Southern California): two people experience road rage and their lives spiral downward from the original incident. Kudos to the series for using so many Asians! And the cinematography and production team do a stellar job, especially with the fabulous car stunts. The lead actors are amazingly capable at wringing every nuance out of the paltry scenes they're given. And that's the problem.
Unfortunately, the script is sub-standard, featuring two completely self-absorbed urban neurotic morons. It's impossible to get past that: the two leads are just lousy, uninteresting, and loathsome characters. Nothing that happens after the characters are established, the vomit-inducing cooing baby talk, the ridiculously pablum-ish doorbell cam scene, even the car chases, can make us care about them in a positive way.
We see an actor binging Burger King from paper bags in long sequences of product placement, and he gags, and then starts to choke. But then it passes, and he goes back to eating. Well, now we know for sure that he deserves to die. His death will benefit all life on Earth.
We see a woman getting a pistol out of a safe and making love to it (ewwwww). Not only is the scene embarrassing to watch, but it's pointless and dull. It only makes us long for her immediate death.
And sadly, the series has nowhere to go from there. Why would we want to watch this show about people we are told to dislike? Are we supposed to cheer for their obvious and inevitable destruction? I won't be watching to find out.
Sorry, great premise wasted on lousy writing is my final word here.
The Bay (2019)
Soap opera dressed as a crime show.
A series of murders every so often is merely an excuse for a lot of really tired, boring soap opera shenanigans in The Bay. Each season's plot is exactly the same, so you don't need to think about it I guess. The REAL plot is the harrowing and unbearably tense torment of being a divorced single mother and a police detective at the same time. Each of two female police officers (for some reason the first lead baled after two seasons, lucky her) has two TEENAGERS, causing tons of teen and school-age drama! And she also has a really turgid, tense, terrifying personal life! And she must face the humiliation of her awful black roots showing under her bottle blonde hair! And she's suffering from catastrophic sudden weight syndrome!!! And her boss is getting divorced and it's super messy! And one of her co-workers kisses a girl! OMG! And several of the actresses get pregnant and try to hide it! And the detective gets drunk and hooks up with the prime suspect in an alley minutes before the crime! And-- well, you get the point.
It's all soap opera, all the time. To make sure the feminine portion of the population keeps watching, various hotties like Barry Sloane and Joe Absolom show up and gaze penetratingly into the camera- but these actors are wasted here. There's absolutely nothing for them to do but look pretty, while their womenfolk suffer and drive frantically down street after street looking for their runaway gay teen. The police bit? Oh, right, almost forgot. No point trying to guess who dun-it- they'll spoon feed you a random perp in the last episode wrap-up. This may be the poorest attempt at a crime drama I've seen from Britain. But as afternoon soap opera potboiler, it's above average, and the guys are pretty. So just sit back and ache and scream and moan and cry, because that's about all the Bay has to offer.
Ted Lasso: Big Week (2023)
bad writing destroys show.
Four episodes into this final season, I'm bitterly disappointed. All the carefully-crafted characters have been dumped in the crapper. The worst casualties are Roy & Keely, separated from each other and all but written out of the show. Dr. Fieldstone, Roy's niece, the bar matron-- all MIA. Instead we have lousy soap opera histrionics. The worst addition is this Zava clown: stupid plt, dull character, boring actor. I'll watch the rest, so Goldstein gets his royalty payment, but i couldn't care less anymore. Please kill Zava off. That might save the show, a little. Maybe I'll just rewatch season two instead.
Hostile Planet (2019)
Avoid this show. NOT FOR CHILDREN!
Although there's very little good to recommend this show, in the interests of positivity, here it is: There are a some wonderful time-lapse photo sequences of the changes in the environment. Shots of water rising and then receding; shots of ice forming and melting; and especially, shots of jungle plants growing many weeks within seconds of real time. These few magical gems ALMOST make this hideous exercise in snuff p*rn bearable. ALMOST.
For no apparent reason, Bear Grylls, a former reality TV personality, narrates this documentary. The less said about him, the better. I will sat that I was deeply disturbed and disgusted at the way he and the editors love the kill, with many segments reveling in long, drawn out, slow motion kills. Writers Fields and Kennedy have deliberately made the struggle for survival, and even animal sex, as ugly and unpleasant as they possibly could.
HOSTILE PLANT focuses on the most hideous, disgusting, beastly part of nature- and why? What benefit is there in this sickening attention to blood and pain and misery and death? Why would they show animals being eaten alive for minutes on end, bellowing and screaming in pain? My opinion is that this is sickening and has no redeeming value.
Frankly, this show dehumanizes all who watch it. As for "learning" there is none. Field and Kennedy offer no facts or references with any scientific value. I learned nothing about global warming from this script, or about animals, or the planet.
If you must watch this awful filth, do what we did after the second episode: TURN OFF THE SOUND AND PUT ON SOME NICE MUSIC.
That way, at least you can enjoy what little beauty there is in the photography.
Eleventh Hour: Resurrection (2006)
God-awful refuse.
"Medical waste" is a great description of this brain-dead failure of a pilot. Honestly, Stephen Gallagher, assisted by Simon Stephenson and Mike Cullen (who Wrote for TAGGART and definitely should know better) should be prevented from ever writing anything ever again. I've never scoffed so many times, and been so disgusted.
Naturally, Patrick Stewart is the draw here (the ONLY draw, as it turns out). The production is cheap and poor, with awful camera work, the hideous script, and ugly people everywhere. The subject matter is tripe. Literally, tripe: the left-over organs of some loser rich moron, who wants them cloned to replace his dead dog-er, I mean son (what difference does it make by this point?)
Complete failure. Total, absolute failure. Avoid it.
Eleventh Hour (2006)
Avoid this stupid rubbish!
The full responsibility for this utter failure belongs to Stephen Gallagher, assisted by Simon Stephenson and Mike Cullen (who Wrote for TAGGART and definitely should know better) These men have created this pathetic mess of a show, called Eleventh Hour, a shameful blot on Patrick Stewart's glorious career. Clumsy and stupid and shallow and obvious don't even begin to describe this Pathetically sketchy script.
Here's an example: Sir Patrick is introduced when a stereotypically thick policeman spots his character in a crime scene evidence tent, and bellows, "Who are you?" Poor Patrick has to reply, with all the gravity he can muster in the face of this tripe: "Ian Hood- SCIENTIST!"
It all collapses into a writhing cesspool of silliness from there. Nothing makes sense. Everything is photographed in a jerky sudden unsteady-cam manner, with car chases that lead nowhere, and storming buildings with approximately nine hundred liters of blood coating everything, and sandwiches delivered to crime scenes. Even the gratuitous male nude was unattractive. WTF?
I love Patrick Stewart, and I'm glad his career survived this utter rubbish. Don't watch this!!
The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (2022)
Nice Try!
Seven episodes in, I can conclusively state that Payne & McKay, the show-runners for Jeff Bezos's THE RINGS OF POWER, are nowhere near as imaginative or talented as Professor Tolkien, or even Peter Jackson and his team. Luckily, they have money to burn, and have hired oodles of highly talented and attractive people to make and inhabit the screen. To a large extent, the money we are seeing on screen is very well spent, and helps to hide the rather paltry story ideas show-runners McKay & Payne are serving up.
The stories, unfortunately, are m i s e r a b l y s l o w slow and pompous, unfolding at a hideously protracted glacial pace.
Successful parts of the series include the elves, especially stars Clark and Cordova. But none of them has the slightest touch of the magic Tolkien and Jackson managed to convey. "Pedestrian" and "drab" are words that come to mind.
Massive Failures include all of the Harfoots. The conceptions of the proto-hobbits is utterly embarrassing and degrading.
The dwarves are simply dependable comic relief.
The undisputed winner in all this? New Zealand!
Oh, and Bear McCreary! Wooo Hooo!!!
Bros (2022)
4 stars fr Macfarlane
Though it's sanitized, deodorized and brightly lit, there's a ghastly, dead spectre hanging over BROS: Woody Allen.
Writer/actor Billy Eichner (44) has turned out a promising first draft script for a gay rom-com. Eichner the actor plays the quintessential New York writer filmmaker Wood Allen here, and the script for BROS is at heart a distillation of all the worst parts of Woody's films, in which The Nebbish That Whined is paired with an utterly unbelievable procession of gorgeous and unexpectedly deep shiksas.
Playing the 'forbidden flesh' this time around is hunky male model/actor Luke Macfarlane (42). Coated with industrial-strength muscle, Macfarlane inhabits the well-drawn character of Aaron as a slave to the conventional life: lawyer, gym bunny, trophy screw. To his credit, Macfarlane explores every single crack and crevasse in his toy boy.
Eichener, sadly, has done nowhere near as a good a job with his Woody Allen mimic, Bobby Whatshisname. Macfarlane's Aaron has all the components of a character: job, family, stifled longings, and a past. Eichner gives Bobby none of these things. He lives in NY with no visible means of support, barking endlessly to no one on a 'pod cast'. His endless self-obsession is the opposite of attractive: it is utterly repulsive. The only characteristic Eichner can show us in his own creation is the laser-focus projection of Bobby's own shallowness and self-loathing. It's no surprise at all that he's still single at forty!
The surprise here (as with all of the Woody Allen films where goddesses have to read a script in which they claim to find him interesting) is that Macfarlane's Aaron would open his perfect lips to reveal his perfect teeth while looking at the utterly obnoxious and grating Bobby.
There are many clever lines, but they are all coming in so slowly, due to Stoller's boring directorial pace, that we see the punchlines over yonder long before they shuffle in.
There's not a shred of nudity in this R rated film, just lots of self-indulgence. Why on earth would men leave their underwear on during sex?
Ted Lasso: Beard After Hours (2021)
Avoid this piece of trash.
Watching a Martin Scorcese film is exactly like being locked in a port-a-potty overnight. Scorsese's whole "roman catholic suffering beta male scream of defiance" is worthless and pathetic and all of his movies should be destroyed. AFTER HOURS is even worse than most of his other films.
Unsurprisingly, this episode, a cheap rip-off of such a lousy film, is just as awful as the film it's ripping off.
Yet, amazingly, the Lassos DID make some trivial improvements on the horrible original, but Beard After Hours is still a sewage fest. Some low-points:
The beating in the alley stunk. The slithering woman stunk. The obvious and annoyingly repeated nebbish routine of losing his keys a bunch of times and then breaking the key off in the door (This is the spoiler, not how much the episode stunk) was obvious and annoying and it stunk.
What else stunk? The pool table scene stunk.
The scene in the posh club was stupid and it stunk.
The scene where he goes into a hotel looking like a bum stunk.
She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (2022)
100% better than seinfeld.
Review of SheHulk
She-Hulk: Attorney At Law is very entertaining, and far more coherent and intelligent than that truly horrible shambling wreck, THE FALCON AND WINTER SOLDIER. In a revolutionary twist, SHE-HULK features a woman who doesn't scrub floors, but instead has a real career, making real money. That's the first thing to love about it.
SHE-HULK has a good heart, and the scripts have a lot of sly fun with the conceptual silliness of superheroes in general, and the wretched excesses of the fragile male ego in particular. Unfortunately, far too many people can't take a joke in this area. That's the second thing to love about it.
On a serious note, the issues SHE-HULK addresses involve competent women being taken seriously in the work place, and the actual fear too many women feel walking from point A to point B every day. This is the whole point of SHE-HULK: she's immune to attacks by puny males. She's safe walking through the darkest alley alone. She's bigger and taller than any man. She has nothing to fear. That's the third thing to love about it.
And there's Jameela Jamil! She's always been one of my favorites, since THE GOOD PLACE. That's the fourth thing to love about it.
The character Jennifer Walters is a freed woman. She is not owned, controlled or possessed by her father, brother or husband. SPOILER ALERT: She doesn't NEED a man, except when she wants one. What??? Ouch! Wham! Bam! Ka-PLOW! As a feminist, I welcome this idea: responsible adults can have whatever sexual relations they want. Is this really so revolutionary in 2022? That's the fifth thing to love about it.
I really enjoy this show, because I am one of those radical revolutionaries who believe that women are people. The world doesn't revolve around SWMs anymore. It's now time for THE REST OF US.
Jessica Jones (2015)
ONLY for David Tennant!
If not for Tennant's fabulous turn as the villain here, this review would have been one star. Agonizingly dull and infinitely pointless script, clueless uninteresting characters, and a boozy nitwit as the title character all combine to make this the worst of the thankfully-short-lived Netflix-Marvel abortions. Dreck.
Honestly, what more is there to say? It stunk. It started horribly, and, apart for one glorious moment when she balled Luke Cage, this show was so boring I used to to fall asleep. Dull Dull Dull.
David Tennant, on the other hand, deserves his own show! And he should be in every movie ever made. The man is utterly brilliant.
Die Another Day (2002)
Audience tortured by grossly stupid film.
If not for the gorgeous and fun Halle Berry, this film would've been two stars. This film is ruined by non-stop pointless action, a totally incoherent plot, and worst of all, Madonna, the great white shark of mediocre dance music. (But at least she's the only shark in the Bond film, THIS time.) Shortly after the retarded surfing spy opening, I knew it was doomed. But then it got much, much worse. The concept of using DNA therapy to transform Asians into white men was simply insulting and disgusting racism, and flat out-stupid science. Even John Cleese's short-lived stint as quartermaster Q couldn't elevate this above total crap. Under the circumstances, I think Judy Dench's grim foreboding looks were well justified: The poop was on the wall.
The Living Daylights (1987)
Worst Bond girl ever!
We watched THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS last night for the first time, and I was happy with it. The many criticisms of Dalton, I find somewhat justified, although he made a far more realistic action hero than Grandma Moore. Still, he lacks the threat and charisma of Connery.
My biggest problem was with the pedestrian script, the bloated and puffy look of Dalton's dark-circled eyes, and the maddeningly regular fireball explosions.
On a HUGE plus side, the entrance of stunningly gorgeous Andreas Wisniewski marks the best and hottest Bond nemesis by far! Wow! They should have canned Dalton and made HIM 007!
I know I've made fun of the Bond girls before, but this one is the worst- and that's counting the horrifically screechy, moronic Tanya Roberts! Maryam d'Abo convincingly fails at every single task she's handed in this film: she can't act, can't speak, can't pretend to be a KGB assassin, can't even look pretty, and absolutely can't play the cello. Pitifully bony and clad in thick ugly clothes, she was the opposite of alluring. Please destroy the casting couch she came off of.
The rest is the usual, recycled stunts and sequences, all familiar, none better or worse than before.
B.
Don't Look Up (2021)
2 stars-- Cate and Meryl
DON'T LOOK UP is the kind of TV show they used to pump out in the 50s, "you know, expanding the one-line joke into the hour and a half extravaganza".
It's so shallow it makes BRIDESMAIDS seem cerebral.
It's so trivial it makes BOYHOOD seem deep.
It's sex scenes are so cringey they make CALL ME BY YOUR NAME look like a tender love story.
I could go on: after all, that's all the movie does. It's not so much much a movie as a series of Instagram posts.
Poor Meryl; at least she looks like she's having fun. Poor Cate! She's forced to wallow in the sheets with that bloated, dead pig, DiCrapio. The rest deserve their fate. Grande warbles a funny song in her weak little voice, and voila! We discover she can't act, either.
Now, before I end, can someone please explain Lawrence's WIG? Did she get it from a cereal box? I kept expecting transman Elmira Gulch, as Yule, to rip it off her head and burn it. I'd actually pay to see that.
Who are these people in this movie? That's a question the script never bothers to answer. There are no characters, just wardrobe choices. A few jokes are funny, most are phoned in DOA. The 'science' is not even Google-proof, it's so poor.
Earth blows up. Sadly, the end couldn't come soon enough to prevent us from seeing this crap.