We’ve all seen the images. The big ones this film puts onscreen, even some of the ones it kinda deliberately tries to edit around in favour of different angles on the same material. Which is kinda wild by the way, they’re on the fucking moon and they set up multiple angles.
Both this and Toy Story 3 surprised me I guess, I don’t really remember when I watched the first two — definitely I was young and they were broadcast with ad breaks — but they felt epic, big adventure movies in their own right, despite being so small looking back. They left their mark, but never sunk in the way they might if I saw them properly.
At last we come across one of these things with something to say, and it’s the shortest one of them all so far. Maybe these two things are connected. When the Yogurt took over is directed by Victor Maldonaldo & Alfredo Torres from a script by Janis Robertson.
The area in which the fourth short of Netflix’s Love, Death & Robots series is sorely lacking is originality. Everyday folks jump in their power-loaders to fight an oncoming swarm of snarling insectile beasties, followed up at the rear by one very big beastie. After the fight is done, those remaining alive relax wary of the storm clouds beginning to form again on the horizon.
It’s hard to argue with someone when they believe themselves to be a good person. Most people do I guess, but there’s some specific sort who believes that their success, or maybe their suffering — or any part of themselves they deem to be immutable — is what makes them virtuous. Maggie Gyllenhaal is The Kindergarten Teacher and she wears her vocation like a cross around her neck, returning to her New York suburb house in the evenings to a vacant husband, asshole kids, and a glass of wine.
Dammit I was not expecting to cry during this movie. Wahlberg reuniting with the director of Daddy’s Home 2 does not sound like the setup for a emotional rollercoaster. The bland, gauzy cinematography with which these people’s airy, open plan homes are shot should deaden one’s senses. Everything about it seems like it packs the punch of a half tablet of asprin, but god damn if by the ending I ain’t welling up at the ability of this unlikely family to make it work.
I’ll admit, the first shot of Glass didn’t fill me with much confidence. A masculine bodied person, wearing a dress, stalks into a room to intimidate a new batch of abducted young girls. It spoke to everything that I hated about Split: its stigmatisation of non-normative bodies, the casual nature of its depictions of abuse. Our first glimpse into the lives of our self-identifying heroes and villains disappointingly confirms that not much has changed.