When watching stories about queers set before the invention of the horseless carriage; I prefer them to be unsubtle. Hence, Colette gets immeasurably more satisfying once its leads’ decide to cancel monogamy and just start fucking everyone. Keira Knightly plays the young bisexual wife of Dominic West’s publishing magnate: the man who inducts her into Parisian high society, cheats on her, and repeatedly steals credit for her work.
You know, it feels like a pretty rum time to put this flick out. It comes hard to buy the grim premonitions that the most valuable cargo that the cartels are smuggling across the border is refugees. With what how it doesn’t really square with what’s happening in America right now. Describing this film’s opening scenes is perhaps the most instructive way to proceed right now.
Ghost Stories as a movie finds itself in a sticky predicament. The play, also written and directed by Jeremy Dyson & Andy Nyman is presented as an investigation, partly this paranormal investigator looking over the most mysterious cases of his life, but also an investigation into horror tropes. It’s particularly concerning older horror flicks I guess, those from the sixties and seventies, the B movies and the things that calcified into tropes over that period say about us as a people.
Now, the film is straight-up, legit goofball nonsense. Neeson plays a man who has rode the same train every day for ten years and on the day he’s laid off from work a mysterious woman boards with him and offers him $100,000 to identify and track a mystery passenger. Just from the premise it feels a little goofy.
There’s a point when watching Wonder that you realise the actual breadth of the movie’s warmth and compassion. I entered ready to be all cynical about it, seems so trite, sick boy overcomes all the odds. But while that’s the hook, the movie grows out from it; giving all its characters time and understanding.
Look, going in I had no idea how gay The Limehouse Golem was going to be. I always love it when that happens.
One of the best bits in The Hitman’s Bodyguard comes when the script tries to pull off one of the worst plot reveals of all time. Like, someone admits to being the reason behind someone else’s downfall and I’m not sure why I’m trying to keep it secret. It’s the most obvious twist of all time. I’m talking around it here; but when a film be about a bodyguard who loses his business in the opening minutes when a client is assassinated; and an assassin. It ain’t hard to put two and two together.
There seems something vaguely inappropriate about Orlando Bloom saying, in one of the worst Jason Statham impressions of recent time, that one of his ‘mates’ died in the 7/7 attacks. At least his attempt is entertaining, so little else in the film is.
If Saban’s Power Rangers smacks of anything, it’s shame. Like, they can barely force the words Power Rangers out of their young actors’ straight faces. You know they gotta go on to say ‘Morphin” and ‘Megazord’ and all that other nonsense, at that point you’re scripting something impossible. John Gatins had what he must have… Continue reading Saban’s Power Rangers: Chewing the cud