I could have got more stuff done this week. I really should have. The way everything fell around meant that I was able to get all the writing outta the way by Tuesday. Didn’t really do anything for the rest of the week, trying my best to be functional.
Seems odd that I write about film so much and cinemas so little. Maybe there’s not much to say about them, maybe I could be one of those instagram hipsters, travel around the world profiling the most interesting indie cinemas. Get some top brand sponsorship, live the rest of my life in a Vampire Weekend purgatory. I don’t have the demeanour for it.
Vincent Perez’s Alone in Berlin is the sorta uninspiring that might lead to a good year 9 history class someday. Its toothlessness comes from the fact that it ain’t brave enough to commit to any grim, disgusting, oppressive tone. With that gone there no character enough left to fill the gaping void.
The police officer assigned to the hunt is played by the inimitable Daniel Brühl, who is like the one gleaming star in this because his dude is actually allowed to emote about stuff. I mean as one of the best and most prolific German actors in English-language films it makes sense that he be offered all the Nazi roles, like The Zookeeper’s Wife earlier this year, he was a Nazi in that too. He’s so talented, I wish better opportunities present themselves to him. >>more>>
Pierre Coffin & Kyle Balda’s Despicable Me 3 is totally fine. It’s okay. There’s this fight it has with itself over how important the minions should be which it never really resolves. I shouldn’t hate Illumination for aiming small, but I was really charmed by Sing and I think the only real difference is that it was better.
Well, the plot basically ignores them. Hidden inside the ninety minute runtime of the movie is concealed a twenty minutes Minions short film, it’s scattered around all over the place but really, aside from one quick setup scene at the beginning and an equally rushed resolution, they’ve nothing to do with anything else in the entire joint. >>more>>
Trey Edward Schults’ It Comes at Night has had a branding problem. Perhaps it’ll help get the worst parts of the online film community over their A24 obsession, I’ve the notion they’ll hold out until Woodshock at which point they can blame women and fashion mags for their woes. Shults has expressed a desire for his next film to be a Kanye West biopic. Okay. We’ll see.
We’ll start with the obvious. It Comes at Night is a poor title for a film in which nothing actually comes during the night. Sure, that title probably gestures at a more ethereal, experiential horror. Like, it is at night that fear takes hold, or maybe paranoia, perhaps if we’re taking the most literal path it could be the nightmares that our protagonist Travis (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) is unable to escape from. But, you know, to be as reductive as possible, there ain’t no It which is coming. >>more>>
Martin Provost’s The Midwife is this smooth French drama about aging. One, which unlike other films this year, has the honesty and tenacity to admit that our bodies and minds are in this decline. Your twilight years don’t have to be your best, they can at least be engaging.
I imagine The Midwife might play to me on a deeper level to me if I retained any knowledge of the careers of Catherine Deneuve and Catherine Frot aside from the few English release French films we get every so often. >>more>>
Jon Sanders’ A Change in the Weather speaks to me on this level that is right where I am. So detailed and so specific that if you exist outside its scaffolding then you’re just not gonna find a way in. This is the film’s problem, not yours. If you don’t enjoy it within ten, turn it off. It won’t change.
I graduated last year with a degree in acting. I write now far more than I act, and the vast majority of the money I make comes from the sort of minimum-wage job that literally nobody wants to get into coming out of university. When people ask me what I do, act is just about the first thing that come out. Without it what’d be the point? >>more>>
I’ve been watching the jacksepticeye let’s play of the remade Crash Bandicoot collection. I have the literal worst takeaway from it, kinda coming as an extension of my Ratchet and Jak playtime earlier this year. These sorts of remasters should always keep the option to play it in the original aspect ratio. Crash’s commitment to that single point infinite perspective is one that feels to me essential to the boxy look of the 4:3 frame. Seeing it in 16:9 feels all weird.
Likewise, I’ve just finished replaying Half-Life. This is the first time I’ve ever got all the way through without cheating. Like the last was a few years ago and it was those last Xen levels I gave up on. this time all the way through. Proper legit. It’s this whole experience that totally holds up, you can find all these rock solid ideas in there, Twenty years on it’s a real engaging play. But that I played too for the first time in the original ratio, suddenly the shapes of all these places made sense. The high ceilings, the way you’re led through these environments, in widescreen they ain’t there the same way. Why are we so insistent about film aspect ratios but more than happy to throw those of games under the bus?
I have been incredibly slowly inching my way through Mass Effect: Andromeda. Don’t got much to say at the moment aside from the fact that I’m liking it, we’ll see what that turns into. I guess down here is probably going to become my gaming news. I’ll be like IGN but crappier! (not to say IGN is bad they’ve got a pretty great team there right now, I’ll just be worse.)
If y’all in the mood for that please give me a follow: here on facebook, twitter, actually instagram is actually my dopest haunt at the moment cos I have a new phone and like taking pictures. I’m @agrandquiet there. Totally do it.
Thanks once again for reading this, it’s really great to be putting work out for actual people. Stay chill y’all