2018 Film Review: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)

Directed by: Ron Howard
Written by: Lawrence Kasdan, Jonathan Kasdan
Starring: Alden Ehrenreich, Emilia Clarke, Woody Harrelson
IMDb Link

Not that you ever needed to know, but we find out almost everything about Han, from how he got his signature blaster to how he met Chewie and Lando, to how he acquired the Millennium Falcon and even how he got the name 'Solo', and that most of this happens for him in the space of a few days. Outside of those origin moments it's a series of rushed and mostly unimaginative heists and action sequences. It's a lot of fluff and fan service masquerading as thin plot that's largely held up by the performances of its lead actors and their characterisation.

Ehrenreich is the best part of this movie. He brings all that you would expect of a Han Solo role -  he shoots fast, he talks first, and he's cocky enough to try anything once with confidence - and at the same time, he has a certain youthful idealism to his character, which gets worn down over the course of the movie by repeated betrayals and cynical attitudes. Ehrenreich carries himself with the same walk, the same tone, the same expressions, it's really uncanny. It's a very good imagining of what turned him in to the character we all know and love; as performance and as characterisation of Han, Solo is a success. There's a similar amount of success to be found in the rest of the main cast. Donald Glover is perfect as Lando, charismatic and confident almost to delusion, and Joonas Suatomo offers a significantly emotional turn as Chewbacca (seriously, of all the subplots in this movie, his was the most engaging and it only took up a few minutes of screen time). Clarke and Harrelson as newcomers Qi'ra and Beckett both offer solid performances in roles necessary to Solo's development. Qi'ra is a once lost love turned crime lord's lieutenant, and Clarke plays her effectively serious without being too dour; she's conflicted, and shows a nice contrast in the moments she spends alone with Han. Beckett is moralistically grey and poisonously cynical, the type of person you could see Han becoming, and Harrelson gives him the image of a wounded soul. Neither of them have very much to do outside of how their characters relate to Han, but both of them play well with what they're given.

The plot in the film doesn't fair as well. When it slows everything down to just let characters have their moments, the film works just fine; the charisma of the actors is enough to carry those scenes regardless of what's actually happening in the story, and the dialogue is appropriately cheesy enough to make it feel, for lack of a better word, 'Star Wars'-y. However, when everything needs to actually move we're left wanting. The movie just jumps through a bunch of loosely connected heist scenes that have a lot of action without any real energy or emotion; it's not poorly made, it just doesn't pack much of a punch, with the obvious factor of certain characters being unable to die leaves a lot of the scenes not emotionally engaging either. It's not as if the movie doesn't try, but it essentially trades its inability to have real stakes with most of its principle cast for chances at easy fan service, of which there is a lot. Everything from prop explanation to unnecessary background information to neat Easter Eggs that refer to the other movies and series to cameos (including one that would have made a younger me jump with glee), the film is filled to the brim with veils of Star Wars lip service in an attempt to make up for its natural loss of tension. Because of this, I don't feel a lot of incentive to actually see any of it just because it's Solo and Star Wars; I'm glad I saw it because Ehrenreich's performance and Chewbacca's subplot were worth the price of the ticket, but it's otherwise mild swashbuckling fun.

The Short Version: The good performances and characterisation of its lead hold up a flimsy plot and mostly uninspired action. The fan service can be taken or left. Solo is good, sometimes very good with its characters, but otherwise fine and ultimately forgettable.

Rating: 6.5/10

Published May 25th, 2018

2018: A Week of Movies - May 14th to May 20th

134. The Final Destination (2009) - May 14th

This is still my kind of trash, but calling this more of the same is too much of a compliment; I would've preferred watching any one of the previous entries in the series. The kills are far less insanely inventive, the movie relies ways too much on the 3D gimmick that plagues all too many horror sequels, and the humour is largely either missing or poorly conveyed in comparison to the first three. The only interesting thematic implication is in a character failing to commit suicide because death wants to take the guy himself, but that's not explored or really thought about. The film almost won me back with how silly it got with its meta stuff, but otherwise this is easily the worst entry in the series so far, somehow a significant step down from the "quality" of the first three. - 3.5/10

135. Final Destination 5 (2011) - May 14th

After a disappointing part four this series finishes off with a significant return to form. As opposed to adopting the camp of parts two and three, Final Destination 5 actually tries to improve on the technique used for its insane deaths. It's still the same nonsense that I unashamedly love for how silly it all is, but here there's a real sense of tension not seen before; its like the series has been doing this long enough that it comes right back around to what worked the first time, following the series' structural formula to the letter, but actually doing it well. Some (but thankfully not all) of the farcical macabre humour is lacking here, but its made up for by more effective horror techniques. Scenes like the initial premonition on the bridge, or the gymnastics death, come to mind. In the case of the former, we get a much headier scope that sweeps across the whole disaster, the long, drawn out sequence packed with action and a lot of big shots, shock and awe and gore on full display. For the latter, we're back to the hilarious formula that constantly toys with expectation, but it's played tighter, more viscerally, the sick laugh backed by caught breath as the film actually works towards genuinely surprising or playful death. The themes of the series as a whole actually drive the plot here, with additional (facile, but still) discussion of the deserving or undeserving nature of death that plays well in to the concept of fate versus control over life (assuming you can dig a guy going so far off in the deep end that he believes killing someone will give you more years of life, not the first time the series has done that). As the final entry in the series, this also has a lot of fun with its Easter Eggs and tying the overarching story back together, lots of references to other entries in the series and the world the series exists in, as well as the welcome return of Tony Todd, wonderfully sinister as the coroner who's also the embodiment of death, not as hammy as he was in 2, but playing perfectly for this slightly darker take on the whole affair. Overall, it's fitting that the film that ties the series together also brings the quality of the series full circle. - 5/10

136. Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015) - May 16th

These are still really damn well made, but by this point are getting a little sterile. Every action setpiece is so skillfully crafted, but I can't find a significant emotional connection to any of it, largely because even after all this time the film series is mostly devoid of consistent theme apart from 'Tom Cruise' and in this particular film adoption of aspects akin to the other action juggernaut The Fast and The Furious series (mainly even more far-fetched stunts and 'friendship' as a substitute for 'family'). The inane ridiculousness and hammy 'family is what you make of it' stuff works in that series because it fits the tone of the movies; here there's less humour wrought from the ridiculous nature of what happens, and breaking suspension of disbelief and as well as all sense of tension with that silliness is less effective, largely because the Mission: Impossible series got away with most of its action in the past by making it just credible enough to remain tense. There's still quite a lot of moments in the film that succeed in doing this, but as the series tries to take itself less seriously that tension that made it successful in the first place goes out the window. I suppose it's telling that the series wants to go in a direction that returns it to its more ridiculous roots, but I'm reminded of when Spectre did this, trying so hard and not really succeeding at finding the middle ground between the old camp people used to love and the more serious direction the series has taken since its reboot. Rogue Nation is more successful at this because it uses its camp sparingly, but it still leaves a dissonant taste when the film pulls the old face mask trick after leaving it on the shelf for so long, or puts the characters in a situation that should have so blatantly killed them that them walking away without injury takes you out of the movie. However, aside from the tension breaking moments and lack of emotional investment, it's still a very competently made film in terms of the design of its setpieces. There's an art to making a movie worthy of a gasp of excitement, and Bird continues to exercise his skill in that area here that he so liberally demonstrated in Ghost Protocol. - 6.5/10

137. Deadpool 2 (2018) - May 17th

This was exactly all it purported itself to be, merely a sharper, more cynical, slightly less obnoxious version of the first film, which in itself was an ultra-violent sugar rush. My full review can be found here. - 7/10

138. Soldier (1998) - May 19th

This movie is a bit of a waste. A waste of a good premise, good theming, a good set, a few good actors; Soldier really just does very little with the ideas inferred by its world and merely uses them as an excuse to make Kurt Russell not act in front of a series of explosions. It's not without charm or theme, but the fact that there's a good movie couched clearly within the wreckage of this doesn't stop this from being a bad movie. Commentary on the dehumanising nature of the military is there, but its sting is lost when juxtaposed against the mixed messages of what that means. It's a shame, too, because there were good threads introduced about the toxicity inherent in valuing people only by their ability to brute force kill, and the importance of valuing the softer things like nurturing life and child-rearing, and how the latter can improve the former, but the film gets messy when it awkwardly tries to cut a half-way mark, wanting to condemn the brass that make the soldiers and not the soldiers themselves but suggesting that the tenets they have been raised with hold value that can be passed on; I appreciate that it goes for the grey area and wants the soldiers to become more than they are without abandoning who they are, trying to find an identity that encourages both strength and tenderness, but the execution is way off. It's largely in the fact that the movie is also big action movie, so regardless of how the themes of the first two acts suggest a better outlook on life can be found in qualities the movie deems as more human, the third act requires a big dumb explosion-fest that sees Russell shooting, punching, or blowing up everything as an answer to his problems and the problems of his people. There's not an in-between introduced, just the suggestion of the possibility, so any problems that can't be solved by a lighter touch has to be solved by a soldier's answer. The movie might still be ok if this inevitable action were actually good, but it's quite boring and uninspired; not a lot of truly bad work, just not any hint of real style or grit to accentuate exactly what director Anderson is going for. As a last note, Kurt Russell is completely miscast here; he has no chance to flex that smarmy smirk of his that makes his characters so endlessly watchable, instead playing a role more suited to the type of thing Dolph Lundgren is known for. - 4/10

139. The Lady from Shanghai (1947) - May 19th

This one kind of blew right through me, so any and all things I say about it should be taken with more than a few pinches of salt because I actually forgot I watched this until fifteen minutes before I had to post this journal. This is Orson Welles getting a little weird with it, experimenting as he always did, and while it doesn't work quite as well as some of this other works (see: Citizen Kane, Touch of Evil, F for Fake) largely due to its strangely convoluted script that has all the melodrama needed to make a good noir and Welles' immutable style to back it up, but also complicates itself a few more times over than necessary, and makes some strange directorial choices (largely with the framing of bizarre, almost Ozu-esque closeups between shot-reverse shot conversations, as well as the direction of certain performances like Glenn Anders' Grisby) that don't always pay off, largely because they feel out of step with the rest of the movie or even come off as poor. That said, this movie starts with Welles waxing with an Irish brogue, so it's not as if the film really wants you to feel at ease. - 8/10

140. Godzilla vs. Destoroyah (1995) - May 20th

After a little more than forty years of existence spanned across twenty two films, Toho decided it was time for Godzilla to die (look how well that stuck, we have over thirty films now). While it only took five years (and one really bad American adaptation) for them to take another crack at the old atomic dinosaur, for the moment in which it happened it was a big deal that, for the first time since his initial appearance, Godzilla would actually die; not get defeated only to return for another day, not destroy all in his path and roar triumphantly before disappearing over the horizon to get ready for the next movie, simply die at the hands of the embodiment of the only thing ever capable of truly defeating him and have that be the end of him. The series still leaves and opening for continuation with his son, assuming success and/or demand, but they really did design this to be the end of Godzilla at the time if it had to be. It's fitting, then, that the last monster Godzilla faces in this series' run is a creature born from the very first thing to actually defeat him: Destoroyah is made from several prehistoric creatures mutated by the oxygen destroyer that killed the very first Godzilla, and combined together to make one gigantic monster that looks like the lovechild of the devil and a lobster. As a creature, Destoroyah works as well as any of the other monsters that can fight Godzilla one-on-one, but fits more thematically, especially as part of the larger whole that is the Heisei era's meta commentary on the impact of Godzilla upon Japanese culture. The movie lays out everything with a skill that's fairly standard of the Heisei series overall, and then executes its finale with an extended back and forth between the two titans that has a real ebb and flow to it. As an emotional peak to the franchise, this is solid, giving Godzilla a sendoff he deserves that feels earned by how tough his final fight is, and with the hope of a future in his offspring. - 6.5/10

Re-watches

32. Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005) - May 16th

The best of the prequels by a long shot, Revenge of the Sith is a really good story told really poorly. The actual strokes of the story are excellent, with a lot of heated melodrama fueled by tragic irony, classical stuff like bringing about a fate you sought to avoid, and an impressive number of links to the actions of the characters in the original trilogy. Unfortunately, for all that, it's still a movie where the acting is as flat and wooden as a board, where the dialogue is so obnoxiously on the nose that it would be a bit much even on the stage, and where effects are used to make up for a lack of realised substance. It's not a bad movie, in fact when considering how much it draws from the style of old sci-fi radio dramas and how much it works to connect the prequel trilogy with the original, it's actually quite good at points, but there's a reason that so many moments in the film have been turned in to text-based memes; the film doesn't tell its story with its visuals, it fails to even try and convey ideas without dialogue, and it becomes difficult to deal with when the dialogue itself is usually bad and sometimes atrocious. So much of the movie is character flatly telling each other the conflict within them and not actually trying to emote so as to express that conflict visually; the final conflict between Anakin and Obi-Wan is the culmination of three movies worth of build-up, an ideological battle between two best friends wrought out of the differences between the Jedi and the Sith and the failure to reconcile them, stacked on top of the fact that Anakin is in the processing of fulfilling his greatest fear through his own action, which is in turn the most consistent flaw of his character and seals the tragic nature of the prequel trilogy, and yet all of that is significantly offset by the fact that none of this is left up to the audience to figure out and all of it is expressed through dialogue, that dialogue is in turn hackneyed and stilted, and it is spoken with the least possible of emotion or expression by the two characters involved. It's such a bizarre mish-mash of really good and really bad, the skill of the concept at odds with the lack of effort in the execution. Still, to suggest that the film lives or dies entirely by this is to ignore what it does right, and while concept alone isn't enough to balance out the poor execution, the sheer spectacle is, to an extent, as well as one performance in particular. The action in the prequels is still really solid, lacking a little in weight due to its over-reliance on complete CGI, but still bombastically and acrobatically choreographed with a lot of simply dashing aplomb; it's all a bit silly and over the top, but when combined with the epic nature of the music, it all moves and feels just right, even if it doesn't always carry the weight of context. Finally, Ian McDiarmid's performance as Palpatine is easily the best of this movie, and probably the whole trilogy; he's the only one who turned in something that wasn't flat and lifeless, offering something far more excessive and entertaining, actually playing in to the melodrama and the tragedy of it all with maximum cheese. Every line he drops is dripping with this energy, and even if he has no one who'll return it, he keeps giving it a good effort and having fun with it. - 6.5/10

33. Hitman (2007) - May 17th

Roger Ebert once said that "Hitman stands right on the threshold between video games and art. On the wrong side of the threshold, but still, give it credit." I'm inclined to agree. The film falls short in key areas, primarily its plotting and dialogue, as well as tone, but it's held up by the very reason that I'm watching the film in the first place: its lead performance. As far as plots go, it's a good example of how convoluted not being the same as complex, with multiple groups all with different interests all working in various capacities for or against the two main characters, and a lot of "predictable, but only because it would be the stupid thing to do" plot twists that only serve to weigh down an otherwise potentially slick story. A lot of this is probably to do with how it's presented; the film opens with an unnecessary and over-stylised exposition dump (not the worst way to present an exposition dump, but certainly the most obnoxious, and an exposition dump is the worst way to tell a story), and no turn or sequence can go without being preceded or followed by too much expository dialogue. This is a shame too, because the film manages to capture some of the spirit and cleverness of its source material now and then, with some neat attempts at subterfuge that are all too often perforated by bombastic action. It doesn't help that the dialogue is largely inane; plot-related talking is as elaborate as it is extraneous. A lot of plot points are reinforced and overtly repeated through dialogue, which only serves to highlight how silly it all is while actually explaining very little of significance that we didn't already know and still don't care about. Like the plot, there are moments of cleverness, but they're not significant enough to circumvent the weak nature of the whole. The tone is inconsistent; the film largely takes itself far too seriously (save for one extremely meta joke moment), and it makes the only moments where humour could be found feel at odds with the rest of the movie. Elevator music over an image of a massacred elevator feels like it's supposed to be a joke, but its stark contrast with the broodingly intense action that precedes and follows it makes it that much stranger. That said, most of this stuff isn't truly awful (most, mind you), just the regular kind of bad you can expect from the more poorly made blockbusters, and this movie has one prominent aspect in its favour. Timothy Olyphant is a truly great character actor, and he brings a lot to the character of Agent 47, a man who is otherwise supposed to be a literal blank slate. A character like this can be taken in basically any direction in film, but Olyphant gives the character a sense of a tortured soul, an inhuman creature with a human being buried somewhere deep below the surface. The film doesn't do nearly enough to accentuate the character, all too focused on the plot and offering very little for how he changes, but Olyphant sells just about every minute of his work, with always the right intensity and a serious humanity that suits the tone the film (usually) goes for. It's a shame that this movie isn't good, because Olyphant's performance is. - 5/10

34. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) - May 19th

This is the point where I tell you that The Two Towers, and indeed The Return of the King, will also get 10/10 ratings from me as Fellowship did. While neither of the sequels are as tightly told as the first, they are all so inextricably a part of one another that a rating for one is a rating for all three of them. Plus, for any ways in which you could potentially fault this movie in comparisons to its predecessor, I'd simply contend that Gollum and the battle at Helm's Deep are enough to make up for the more drawn out aspects of the build up to Helm's Deep and the lack of The Shire. Seriously, these movies are so dense that if I tried to nail this one aspect at a time I'd be here for hours, so instead I'm going to link to Lindsay Ellis' discussion on the movie here, suggest you go watch it, and quickly remind everyone that Andy Serkis was robbed of an Oscar, because it's been a long week and I need a rest. - 10/10

Published May 21st, 2018

2018 Film Review: Deadpool 2 (2018)

Directed by: David Leitch
Written by: Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, Ryan Reynolds
Starring: Ryan Reynolds, Josh Brolin, Morena Baccarin
IMDb Link

Deadpool 2 opens with the mouthy mercenary blowing himself up for our viewing pleasure, then spends the next few minutes showing exactly why, incapable of letting even the most sombre moment go without a meta joke commenting on it. It's a solid reminder that nothing really matters here and nothing is meant to matter, and that the story is happy to be a retread of hero arcs and tropes as long as it gets to comment on every single one of them.

Deadpool is back to crack wise and joyfully slaughter and maim with all the energy and lack of focus of a child with a chainsaw on a sugar rush. Reynolds is as good as ever here, never going more than a single breath without throwing shade at another superhero movie (including its predecessor) or making a pop culture reference, delivering each line with the fervor and glee required of such a self-aware character. This time he goes on a 'finding your family' character arc, and the writers are happy to follow the formula to the letter if it means letting Deadpool do what Deadpool does to such a process. There's regular reminders about what act the story's in, consciousness about Deadpool reaching his lowest point, constant reminders about the writing being convenient and lazy, and a few moments that happen concurrently with the story that make Deadpool as much a fan of the story being told as he is a participant. What's more, the writers are happy to have none of it mean anything by playing with the idea that any of it ultimately happened at all, breaking their own intentionally lazy rules to not only have their cake and eat it too, but also delete cake from existence. It's a lot of toying with storytelling for the sake of good fun and a bit of excessive violence, and the film knows it and wants to be nothing more. This sort of meta play extends to how the story is presented as well; a character may be running in slow motion, but Deadpool is happily slicing away at everyone behind him at normal speed; it's all very goofy.

Beyond the what can be expected from a Deadpool movie, the film offers some strong supporting characters who all get a little moment to shine. Stefan Kapicic returns to voice boy scout Colossus and Brianna Hildebrand is back as edgelord Negasonic Teenage Warhead, both offering the same counter dynamics to Deadpool as they did in the first; Warhead gets downplayed here, but Colossus is used excellently as both action centre-piece and as best friend. Karan Soni also returns as Dopinder, given a bigger role set on proving himself as a killer for hire; he's as every bit as delusional as he was in the first, and all the funnier for it. Newcomers Brolin and Zazie Beetz act as Cable and Domino respectively. Cable is a gritty, edgy, over the top cyborg soldier from the future, made funny by how straight Brolin plays him as a counter to Deadpool; his performance is exactly what it needs to be here. Domino is as mouthy as Deadpool and has luck as a superpower; Beetz plays her only slightly more mature than Deadpool, and makes for back and forth that gets funnier as it gets more exasperating. Finally, there's Julian Dennison, of Hunt for the Wilderpeople fame, doing a good job playing what is essentially his character Wilderpeople, only with superpowers. Everyone here fits their roles and suits their dynamic with Deadpool just right, so even when the jokes don't land the movie can keep going on character chemistry alone.

The Short Version: Deadpool 2 is very much the same sort and same quality of movie as the first: an ultra-violent sugar rush that plays everything fast and loose and meaningless and self-aware while never being afraid to obnoxiously remind you of it. The film is fast, funny, forgettable action comedy, and it's contentedness to be just that goes a long way to keep itself from getting tiresome.

Rating: 7/10

Published May 18th, 2018

2018: A Week of Movies - May 7th to May 13th

127. A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988) - May 7th

The Nightmare on Elm Street sequels haven't really come close to attaining the quality of the original, but I've found them to be doing a damn sight better than most other horror franchises. They've typically run out of steam by the fourth movie: Friday the 13th sought to finish the Jason trilogy (the unfortunately titled Final Chapter), in the process making something that was only marginally better than Part III, and while Jaws made people afraid to go back in to the water, Jaws: The Revenge was bad it made people afraid to go back to the cinema. In contrast, The Dream Master managed to build on ideas presented in Dream Warriors and evoke a lot of the imagery that made the series effective while also creating a decent cutoff point without conclusively ending the series. It's a little forced at first, rushing through a re-introduction of Krueger and the passing of the torch to the new set of characters, but the kills are all well done, preying appropriately on each victim's greatest fear and reinforcing the film's themes of abuse and carrying the weight of it. It also carries a very strong finale, punishing Krueger fittingly with his own crimes and positively disgusting visuals. - 5.5/10

128. Final Destination 2 (2003) - May 8th

Final Destination 2 turns the premonition gimmick from the first film up to eleven and never looks back. The first several minutes of this are so hilariously unsubtle before being completely insane that no matter how bad it could get from here the films will always be in the 'campy' camp for me. These were always that way, of course, with the constant silly playing up of the dangers of everyday items, and regular verbal reminders such as 'death is always around the corner' and 'when your number's up, it's up', but the film's opener is so certifiable I can't help but delight in it. From here it's mostly working with the standard set by the first, combining a little carelessness and little improbability to make each escaped victim of death's grim ghoul get gruesomely gutted. The deaths are pretty inventive, with the filmmakers going to great lengths to either set up or subvert our expectations, and it proves a grim exercise that, while mindlessly enjoyable, honestly gets a bit tiresome. It's fine that this is the film's gimmick, but it falls in to the same trappings of a lot of other horror movies, where there's so little else on offer that the whole experience just becomes a sadistic waiting game; you end up rooting for death because it's the only 'character' in the film that's interesting for its creativity (except Tony Todd as the mortician, the guy's so perfectly hammy that his five minutes on screen elevate the movie, and the director plays to that well). The film even rolls back a lot of the minor philosophical stuff from the first film about fate and controlling your life's course, paying only a bit of lip service at best. However, every now and then when it starts to get boring, the film offers a reminder that it has a sense of humour at its gory centre, sick as it may be, and throws a funny curve ball now and then to show off its deprecating self-awareness. I almost like this more than the first, if only because the idea is so inherently gimmicky that being more intent on embracing that fact at least shows a commitment to appealing to its core audience; offering somehow less substance but upping the ante with what got people to see it in the first place, something that a lot of horror cash cows attempt but few I've actually seen succeed at. - 5/10

129. Not Another Teen Movie (2001) - May 9th

Before I started watching, I wasn't sure if I'd already seen it, or just every movie it referenced. I'll be honest, I still don't know for certain, but that's obviously by design; the movie is built on the familiar, every aspect from its costume design to its hair to its framing to its story beats are deliberately ripped from other movies. The references aren't terrible, either, even if they are sometimes incredibly blatant. The shots are fired, the cool new ideas that became tropes and then cliches are lampooned again and again, sometimes with a clever throwaway that warrants a laugh, sometimes forced and overdone or just plain lazy, but always at least trying and usually down to the energy or skill of the actor delivering the meta talk. Perhaps it's just because he's Captain America now and also perfect, but I quite like Chris Evans here; he gets away without having to deal with a lot of the film's puerile humour (with a couple of exceptions that are about as too much as they could be) and mostly just has fun with the role, over-acting with his eyebrows at every possible moment. Unfortunately, not everyone else gets away so cleanly, with the biggest drawback of the film being the awful toilet jokes (sometimes literally) the movie regularly sprays all over the characters and the audience, which significantly diminishes the appeal of an already mediocre movie. - 4/10

130. The Sting (1973) - May 10th

A little rag-time and I'm all in. The style, the tension, the way the film cheats as the players do, it's all so excellently crafted and a bundle of fun to boot. The movie is mean, but in a playful way, toying with audience expectation at every chance as the very point of its existence; even a getaway from gunmen feels wrought out of Chaplin. The whole thing is cons within cons, and each one feels like the visual equivalent of slap-fighting; with great performances from everyone including Redford and Newman, all stylised to fit the slightly silly tone of the movie, this was just great to watch so well made cinematic trickery in action. - 8/10

131. 12 Angry Men (1997) - May 10th

Theoretically pointless but not entirely in practice, and excellently crafted nonetheless, this remake of the modern classic is an excellent film in its own right, with mostly minor or nuanced differences. I went in to this believing it to be unnecessary, and it is in some ways, but the film takes the opportunity to elaborate or alter small details that allow it to exist within an altogether different context; it's 12 Angry Men in 1997 as opposed to 1957, and while the core of the story is timeless, the changes in this version feel even larger with subtext. This subtext hardly goes explored, however, the film enslaved to the structure of the original, and a good idea is ultimately lost to the redundancy of the film's existence. Beyond that, the performances are all very good, with Jack Lemmon and George C. Scott offering perfect counters to one another that both take inspiration from Fonda and Cobb's while forging their own identities. Possibly my favourite difference here is at the climax of the film; Cobb changed his decision in a blubbering wave of pure emotion, whereas Scott's emotion had subsided, giving his final verdict in a quiet moment of clarity. Only a small thing, but suggestive of how much Friedkin and Scott wanted to contrast Juror #3's final decision with his first by comparing emotion to clarity, rather than the original's comparison of two emotional extremes. - 7.5/10

132. Final Destination 3 (2006) - May 11th

This series is the very definition of camp. This pointless macabre exercise is more of the same, but for at least one more time around I get a kick out of its maniacal nature. The film is as engrossing as the other two in how detailed and absurd its elaborate death sequences are, and there's a good performance (within the film's parameters) from Mary Elizabeth Winstead. There's still the slightest sense of fate and controlling it as a theme in the main character, but it's as always largely lip service to remind you that these movies aren't entirely pointless, just mostly. - 5/10

133. Lake Placid 3 (2010) - May 12th

Ah, made for TV Syfy Channel Originals, always exactly as terrible as I expect them to be and yet I still give them a go. Lake Placid 3 is amateurish and awful, and I couldn't even grow to appreciate it in that "so bad it's good" sort of way. Not a single moment is effective as horror or campy comedy, and this was the TV cut so even the pointless titillation was all but removed, making this an entirely boring slog devoid of any value, ironic or otherwise. I don't want to go on about this, so I'll let the rating speak for itself. - 1/10   

Re-watches 


27. The Third Man (1949) - May 7th

Carol Reed's classic is one that I first got a look at in 2016 and have been meaning to get back to it ever since. It's a unique film for its time, with a really bizarre mix of noir stylings and music that is at once wonderful and also doesn't fit the movie at all, which given the sheer quality of the film is probably and intentional stylistic choice that re-frames the movie to be more of a mischievous commentary, which absolutely comes together when the film reveals Orson Welles' Harry Lime (sidenote: I actually sat down to watch this movie with a friend specifically because last week's Alligator had "HARRY LIME LIVES" graffiti-ed on a sewer wall, and it was such a neat Easter Egg that I simply had to find the time to re-watch the film when I was so suddenly reminded of all its awesomeness). Lime's reveal is possibly the greatest shot in all of cinema, and the combination of the serendipitous lighting with Welles' cheeky and crooked smile perfectly summarises the movie in just a single moment. With that in mind, one of the things that comes with subsequent watching is that a lot of the movie is amplified this time around, particularly the things you are looking for, and in this case Welles' performance was as absolutely captivating as it was disturbing, his 'dots' monologue hitting even harder, the realisation that a man you once knew could be so abhorrently transformed sinking that much deeper, and the lack of empathy wrought from that change is simply staggering. There's still a lot here I feel I need to go back to and consider further, but the film is magnificent. - 10/10

28. Some Like it Hot (1959) - May 7th

I already re-watched this earlier this year; this time it was to show a friend. I also appreciated Tony Curtis' performance much more this time around; the first two times I was so heavily focused on Jack Lemmon because, well, he's still the best thing about the movie, but I really have to give Curtis almost as much credit here; the 'Shell' joke is still one of the funniest things I've ever heard, the parody of the Transatlantic accent is hilarious on its own (it's made funnier by Lemmon's commentary, cementing the self-aware nature of the bit, also there's probably a multilayered joke about adopting a 'Trans'-atlantic accent), and his forth to Jack Lemmon's back is what gets them in so many of the hilarious situations in the first place (ok, that's more of a praise of the writing of his character, which deserves all the praise it can get, the writing is transcendentally hysterical, but Curtis does his damnedest to sell it). Of course, I think I focused so hard on Lemmon that I also ignored Marilyn Monroe, who's also great, with a lot of comedic talent (not the kind Lemmon's Jerry is talking about); her lines are all incredibly cheesy and she delivers them with the appropriate ham and excellent comedic timing. This film was always great to me, but at this point it's one of the greatest comedies, perhaps one of the greatest films of all time. - 10/10

29. Predators (2010) - May 8th

Doing away with a lot of (though not all, the film does re-tread some of the first's territory with it's look at what it means to be a predator/human/alive) subtext and trying to rely on simply being about the Predators as a concept worthy of exploring to do what it does, Predators is a far cry from the overtly 80s-90s schlock semi-satire of the first two. The value of the film seems entirely based upon how invested you are in exploring the idea of an alien culture built around hunting and how we as people are involved in it, which for me is quite a lot; the monsters fascinate me just as much as the films, and this idea of an alien species not actually intent on wiping out humanity by cause or instinct, instead simply using the human race as sport, is unique enough among alien sci-fi species to be worth giving more than one look. Of course, much like the more recent Alien movies, the movie's success at this goal for people who care enough about the monsters to want to know more about them is based on how they feel about the direction they took. Personally, I didn't like what they did with the new Super Predators. but it was mostly stuff that just bugged me, not anything that was actually badly made. As a concept, there didn't really need to be something more badass than the Predators, especially just bigger predators; it seems lazy to define something as better and then only use size as a factor, especially when the size difference isn't all that apparent. Were there something more there, it could've been really interesting, especially with mentions of a blood feud and the implications of what that means to the species, but with how little time there is devoted to it, the effort gone in to making a point about their differences feels a little wasted, save for some interesting behavioural ticks found in the lead Predator that suggest a considerable difference in culture or creed, not just between sub-species but also his comrades (stabbing in to Edwin to see if he's alive or blasting and unarmed Stans come to mind). It's a lot of potential that the film doesn't really live up to, but there's a few things going on that are implied or stated that keep the species interesting. Beyond that, the film's look at what makes someone a human is shallow as a puddle even at its deepest, but at least consistent across every one of its characters. Goggin's Stans goes from trying to kill Ali's Mombasa to almost mourning his unceremonious death after a couple of shared death-defying experiences, Taktarov's Nikolai and Grace's Edwin look out for each other, and Fishburne's Noland is the extreme conclusion to losing all value in that, while Brody's Royce goes through the arc of denying and then understanding that, with Braga's Isabelle challenging him all the way. On Noland specifically, Fishburne gives an excellent performance; quiet and paranoid and grimly humorous, his moments in the film are more engaging than the rest of it by a considerable margin, and his quick and easy death was undeserved just for how much fun he was to watch on-screen. The image of a man who has lost his humanity just to stay alive evokes a lot of tales, more specifically I like to think that this is what his character would have become had he survived Apocalypse Now long enough to stare in to the heart of darkness. This is also one thing that works better for his character than it does for the rest of the story: by being so vague and broad we can infer all that we want to about the character, the type that's intriguing simply because it's apparent there's so much there but we simply aren't made privy to what. It's much like the Predator in the first movie "what the hell are you?", as opposed to how it feels with the actual Predators in this movie, where playing coy with information about them for the third (or fifth, technically) time has gotten more tiresome than intriguing. Still, I'd ultimately call the film decent, mostly for what it tries to do and only a little for what it really succeeds at. - 6/10

30. The Sandlot (1993) - May 9th

This is solid "boys will be boys" stuff that is far less sweet in retrospect for multiple reasons, not the least of which is the idea that, unlike other prolific nostalgia-bait, like Stand By Me, a lot of stuff in The Sandlot feels far less earnest than it once did, despite (or maybe because of) a certain lack of self-awareness about is own nostalgia goggles. It's good, but as coming-of-age, friendships-that-last-a-lifetime movies go, I've seen better, more honest works. I don't blame you if you buy in to the movies ardent hopefulness about its own subject matter, though; everyone wants a moment to reflect on what was good, and movies like this create an avenue for that sort of exercise, and whether or not I felt anything real here, I'm glad that you did. - 7/10

31. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) - May 12th

Re-watching this is one of the more beautiful experiences I've had with film lately. Everything about this film is so tightly packed and perfectly paced that even at its staggering length it was an absolute breeze to watch. Every scene in the Shire was like magic, every single time the Shire theme played I'd have to watched the movie through barely contained tears, it was storybook fantasy come to life, to then venture out and be grown and changed by the world. As the start to one of the most prolific trilogies of all time, The Fellowship of the Ring is the absolute best version of itself, regardless of whether you're watching the Theatrical or Extended Version. I'd like to leave a link here to a video essay by Lindsay Ellis, and I encourage you to watch all of her videos on the series, as well as the three-part documentary she did discussing the Hobbit trilogy; it's all really well written (far better than what I'm capable of) and deserves recognition for how well it discusses the saga as a whole. - 10/10

Published May 14th, 2018

2018: A Week of Movies - April 30th to May 6th

120. Jailhouse Rock (1957) - April 30th

Elvis' voice is mana from heaven. It's a shame his character is such a prick.

This is a strange movie. On the one hand, the set-up seems like it's going for something much more uplifting, but the film constantly shuts that idea down by reminding the audience of Everett's characterisation; just as soon as his honeyed tones have charmed the audience, he's smashing a guitar or forcing himself on a woman. It's this combination of the sullen anti-hero and the snarky, charismatic type, only mixing slightly less well than oil and water. As a performer Presley feels like a proto-Schwarzenegger, or more recently Gal Gadot, the type of actor that oozes charisma so consistently that their actual acting ability is both indiscernible and of little consequence in the face of their sheer screen presence. However, the character of Vince Everett is closer to the sort you see Clint Eastwood playing as a grouchy octogenarian with values that are backwards even for the time they're used in. yet with the impetuousness of youth piled on top. He's so petty and vicious, it's truly bizarre how the film tries to position him as the hero, or even the anti-hero, when the film simply doesn't afford his attempts at redemption nearly the amount of time they do the acts of destruction. He's just a incessantly sour guy who takes advantage of people caught up in his ego.

That said, the film wraps itself up in its music, and as long as you can concentrate on that, you have yourself a good, and sometimes great movie. The titular piece is of particular merit, with some absolutely fantastic musical work and choreography from Presley, the original music video portrayed right here and now with one of the more important rock songs of all time. If it weren't for the tonally inconsistent human drama in between, this would be something special. - 7/10

121. Paddington 2 (2017) - May 1st

This is the cutest movie, and even better than the first. Incidentally, that makes two movies in two days that I've heard the 'captive audience' joke in reference to prisoners. I don't have too much to say about this one, it's just a fantastically made family film about what we do for the family we love, chosen or born, and it improves upon everything that was good about the first while also avoiding going overboard as often as the first did when it comes to the slapstick. The movie is as warm, fuzzy and cuddly as the teddy bear star. - 9/10

122. Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994) - May 2nd

They finally did it. After several villains based on or similar to Godzilla, from 'Godzilla but fish', 'Godzilla but plant', and multiple iterations of 'Godzilla but robot' we finally have 'Godzilla but space'. It's not even a creature with a unique design or distinctive style, it's just Godzilla with a couple tusks, a horn, and two giant crystals on his shoulders. It's honestly pretty boring, like someone overdid Godzilla's original design.

This is really the closest I've seen the Heisei series get to a misstep. The concept is fine, but says very little, and is essentially a continuation of ideas from all the previous Godzilla movies in the Heisei era, drawing its plot details from Biollante and Mothra and its stylistic choices from King Ghidorah and MechaGodzilla II. It's kind of the goals of the Heisei series up to this point all drawn to a head, at once trying to reflect culture as these kaiju movie always have and bring all of the series' meta commentary about the impact of Godzilla upon Japanese culture, all the while flailing with a plot filled with more hackneyed fantasy aspects of the Showa series that feel a little campy here.

There are standout moments though. Godzilla struggling to re-unite with his son amid attacks from SpaceGodzilla is considerably effective both times it happens, a simple father-son bond that surprisingly well conveyed beneath the rubber suits, and the fight itself is actually very good. However, the Heisei series has explicitly been more science fiction than fantasy, doing away with most mystical aspects underplayed for the sake of not getting too weird within its own context, and I think it fails here with the human story; psychic/telekinetic girl who talks to fairies that gets kidnapped by the Yakuza is a bit much here, and feels tacked on for how little it has to do with the first half of the movie and how sudden it all is. - 5/10

123. Texas Chainsaw 3D (2013) - May 3rd

This was a hilariously bad movie, a poorly made horror in every sense of the word, even by the low standards I've come to expect from sequels and remakes of horror classics. There's barely the slightest theme and no trace of commentary, despite the obvious homage the movie hoped to pay to the original, and the plot is devoid of all but a few traces of character and structure. Our lead, played with a consistently bored face by Alexandra Daddario, has no real sense of humanity, so everything that she does and everything that happens to her is painfully blatant and artificial in its construction. This is worse for every other character, who don't even have the decency to be bland cardboard cutouts, but instead for some reason are all given abhorrent and disgusting trace, seemingly as some misguided attempt to have us sympathise with a psychotic cannibal that wears people's faces, and take joy in his massacres; people are just almost exclusively terrible in this film, for no apparent reason, thematically or otherwise. It's all so poorly done and with nothing to attach us to any single character, and none of it works. Again, why does the film want us to sympathise with a man who eats people and wears their faces? I understand that Leatherface is quite literally a product of his upbringing, that's been inferred since the first film, but that doesn't mean we're suddenly ok with him continuing to do what he does. The movie also completely goes against this idea of evil as a learned trait by making the lead so inert as a character that she sides with Leatherface, suggesting that neither of them can help it and that people are simple terrible all-round, with no recourse for improvement. Beyond that, the gore is nothing special, with its poor effects and 3D gimmick being no better here than it was in Friday the 13th Part 3D - the only memorable kill is the one against the town mayor, and even that gets offset by poor blood effects. It's all too fake, and fails to evoke the original's visceral reaction because of it - 2.5/10

124. The Lady Eve (1941) - May 4th

A particular classic that feels wasted on me. Not the first, but one of the few greats in film that had little personal resonance with me. I still recognise what other, better critics have found in it, but for some reason I can't attach myself to any of it. The brilliantly told tale as old as cynicism, purity, and old Hollywood, the unique complementary use of slapstick and irony that makes palpable use of pathos and bathos, the excellent performances, the clear influences on comedy filmmaking in the years that followed, the whole thing is expertly done, and yet none of it was for me. This is always a strange moment for me, when I can't love a film whose quality is essentially rote. I've learned not to let it trip me up for too long, as even the best critics held or hold personal attitudes that don't reflect the general critical thinking toward a film; this varies even when it comes to classics, so it's hardly new nor significant. That said, I don't think I should dismiss it wholesale; while I usually prefer to explore and re-affirm my thoughts towards films that I love, it's important as well to consider just what it is that doesn't work for me. Perhaps it's as simple as not being in the right head space for type of movie that The Lady Eve is, or that I held mistaken expectations about the film. As it is, this is the sort of thing that I can't solve immediately after viewing, and is instead something that I will likely consider every now and then moving forward, maybe re-watching the film in a different time and place to really engage with the film from an alternative direction, perspective, or critical lens. If my personal attitude changes, so be it, but if not then I'll be a hundred films on from here, my thoughts occupied with something else.

Still, this film does a lot of great work, its mixture of sappy, slappy and satire is near-perfect, with great interplay, duality and miscommunication between its two leads that makes for so much irony it could leave a more enthusiastic viewer squirming in their seat. The clever role reversal and commentary is also notable for being consistent without being overdone, with the emotional actions of the characters fueling every twist and turn just as well. It's really excellent filmmaking, just not something that I personally fell in love with. - 8.5/10

125. Alligator (1980) - May 5th

This is somewhere between mediocre low budget filmmaking, effective satire, and weird allegorical storytelling. The film's premise is based on the old myth about flushing your pet alligator down the toilet, and it does a considerable amount to make that work for the sake of schlock, but the film also segues in to territory unrelated to the main plot. This might have been for the sake of the film's overall satirical goals, but it's strange just how much the film deviates to do so, such as an entire scene about a crazy guy trying to blow up a police station with a radio because of what he saw on television. I get the joke, but that scene is just smack dab in the middle of the first act. Still, I have to give credit to the film for finding a few laughs and even the occasional good scare despite the film's limitations. The diamond in the rough for this film is the last scene of the first act, where Officer Madison and Officer Kelly enter the sewers after we already know they contain the giant alligator. With a combined use of humorous fake outs and appropriate silence, momentary horrific irony and a fair amount of schlocky 80s music, the scene feels like early Raimi; silly, but apparent enough in its intention to not take away from the genuinely well constructed horror. The film never gets as good as this scene again, but it still follows through in its horror goals without losing them in the schlock and satire, and while it never quite perfectly comes together it's overall much more decent than I expected it to be. - 5.5/10

126. Batman: Gotham by Gaslight (2018) - May 6th

Batman vs. Jack the Ripper in an alternative Victorian era Gotham city. It's an idea rich with potential, which the film doesn't always succeed in capitalising on. The most important strength is the fact that this different take doesn't have to adhere to the rules of any established timeline, and can tell the story it wants to tell without being limited to particular interpretations of characters. Some touches are nice for setting the stage, characterising Poison Ivy as a throwaway whore victim for Jack, Selina Kyle set up as actress/performer to establish her acrobatic skill, Bruce and Selina both owing their upbringing to a Catholic orphanage, it's all deviation from the original idea that fits with the world the story is told within and works towards its themes. As a standalone story, it's quite good, not quite Holmes-esque, but giving 'the world's greatest detective' some actual detective work to do, and the limitations of technology means the film can't always default to action, although the film does include slightly preposterous ways around that when it can. Unfortunately, the film loses a bit of steam in its finale; as the villain continues to talk, he only gets nuttier, as his puritanical creed becomes more and more nonsensical without any real rhyme or reason. It's still a decent movie overall, quick and easy and a bit clever with its references as misdirections and so forth, it just rushes its ending. - 6.5/10

Re-watches 

23. I Saw the Devil (2010) - April 30th

It's hard to have more thoughts about a movie like this when I'm still considering the thoughts I first had about it only a week ago, so nothing new to report here, it's just a movie a friend insisted on watching after I told her about it. - 7/10

24. Dr. Strange (2016) - May 4th

Trippy visuals aside, I was mostly pretty tepid towards Dr. Strange the first time I watched it. It was all well made, but a lot of the beats felt like re-treads, so even as the Marvel Cinematic Universe opened itself up to the idea of a multiverse, I was only moderately entertained, but got more invested as Strange's character and powers both continued to grow. Because of this progression, film was elevated by its finale. In a year (or decade) dominated by blockbusters involving giant sky lasers and world-ending stakes, it was nice to see a film approach that idea with a bit more ingenuity, beating the inter-dimensional baddie with a clever bit of use of time magic that required Strange only annoy the guy out of existence. It's pretty hilarious, and it stands as a solid culmination of Strange's arc. Re-watching the film, I didn't get much new out of it, but it did show me that the ending still works very well, even as sky lasers slip from the collective consciousness about superhero movies. - 7/10

25. Predator (1987) - May 5th

This is easily one of my personal favourite films of all time, one that I've seen over a dozen times, and one that I never get tired of. Arnold at his peak, one-liners thrown in every direction possible, and one of the most unique and memorable monster designs in science fiction history. Predator is the best action movie of all time (or a four-way tie, my opinion on this reverberates almost equally between this, Die Hard, Aliens, and Terminator 2: Judgement Day). With the upcoming sequel, The Predator, I felt compelled to give the three Predator movies another run through (maybe the AvP movies too, regardless of how bad they are, I'm always happy to watch those monsters on screen). Here, I just wanted to expel some thoughts I have about the series that I've developed as I've come back to the film multiple times while still watching so many movies. - 8/10

It's fitting that the manliest action hero movie that ever manned also works as a deconstruction of action hero stereotypes (also doubles up with some light Vietnam War metaphor, but I don't know enough about it to really make something comprehensive out of it; just that it basically seems like the use of a jungle setting and a focus on stripping away good old American bravado and adapting to the enemy's techniques is suggestive of how the movie thinks the US should have approached that conflict). It's extremely tough to have it both ways in a movie (something deconstruction inherently has to do by its nature, especially if its goal in its deconstruction is reaffirmation, but that's a topic for another time), but Predator sticks the landing, first by appearing as an extreme glorification of the action genre, tainted only by the implication of coming horror, then dissecting the tropes of the genre by literally ripping its characters apart. I adore every moment of this movie, from the cheesy one-liners to the twisting and distortion of everything that makes 80s action great while being great 80s action, to the ridiculous dick-swinging, testosterone-fueled handshake; it's all so wonderfully over the top while maintaining an inversion of the genre in which it exists.

The initial deception of deconstruction acting as what it hopes to deconstruct is set fairly on within the text, with, despite the raging manliness of it all, feels a little off. Schwarzenegger's 'Dutch' Schaefer characterises his group of meatheads as 'a rescue team... not assassins', the trickery about the goal of their mission, and the irony of juxtaposing Little Richard's "Long Tall Sally" against Ventura's Blaine deriding everyone else for not being manly enough; what we're looking at is not the same as what we're hearing, and the two things change sides of the discussion, with action hero muscles on full display while subtler words and glances seek to undermine their value, and actions or music undermining words when those words turn aggressive or intense, without being totally in conflict with one another. At the basic level it's just enough to throw you off only a little, leave you suspicious, so when the ugly reality of the monster's existence is finally hinted at it feels like a confirmation of those suspicions. From there, it's just malleable enough that you can make crackpot readings of the film (like I'm doing now).

Predator then seeks to establish what is sets out to destroy, something a little different from recent deconstructive filmmaking. Contemporary films seeking to critique through demythologisation and then reaffirmation have more commonly been made as part of a serial or genre narrative that feels no need to re-introduce its characters and themes, believing them to be prevalent enough in the cultural psyche that we already know what is being deconstructed and why, without the film having to tell us (Logan, The Last Jedi). Predator decides that it's better to be sure about what it's talking about, and makes one hell of an introduction, offering some of the biggest, toughest action an 80s movie ever has: the guns (handheld M134 Minigun is literally the biggest, loudest, least practical, and coolest gun), the one-liners (this whole movie can be summed up in the mantra "I ain't got time to bleed"), the explosions and the body count; Predator, for a few brief moments, has it all. It's everything we need for the rest of the film to work, at once pushing forward the narrative and the meta-narrative, establishing exactly how effective and badass these soldiers are (which in turn at the meta level tells people that these guys are proper 80s action heroes, assuming Arnie's presence alone wasn't enough), and resolving the initial plot with a revelation of deception and betrayal (that cynically reminds us of how much the higher ups will throw good people away if it means covering their asses, a fitting mesh of 70s skepticism and 80s swagger that feels like another Vietnam dig). It's all very big and loud, but, most importantly at this point, effective. We establish these guys as indestructible badasses, and are reminded that they are what 80s action heroes look and act like; these men are, despite some initial clever tactics, ultimately standing around, shooting from the hip, and avoiding almost every bullet with nothing but sheer presence of manliness. They aren't just the best, they're the best in the era of 80s action heroes.

It's what makes what comes next all that more compelling.

Everything gets turned on its head from here. Bodies skinned, heads exploded, chests burst open, arms sliced off, spines ripped whole cloth from the body with the skull still attached; these soldiers, these badass 80s action heroes, are mercilessly ripped apart one by one. Their swagger is worthless against their new foe, one with superior tactics, tech, and terrain knowledge, who will not stop until every one of them is dead and hanging in its trophy cabinet. There is not a more perfect scene that exemplifies exactly how helpless these monsters of manhood are in the face of the Predator than in Blaine's death scene, where they unleash hundreds of rounds from every gun in their arsenal, and barely leave a scratch. It doesn't just show how powerful the Predator is even in comparison to these badasses, it shows that their mindless action hero antics are completely useless here; the Predator is the cold slap of the horror genre, now front and centre and twisting the oldest, hardest, rule of cool in action to show that it's all worthless. It's effective, to say the least, as it prompts the series of turning points necessary to defeat the Predator.

Dutch and his crew don't lie down and die; they adapt in their conviction, altering their strategy every time it fails. They learn to strip away all that defines them, and figure out what works. When action shenanigans fail, they fall back on more conventional military tactics. When that doesn't work, the 'boy scout' stuff starts; that almost works too, but faith is shaken, emotions boil, and characters need to complete their arcs, so the new tactic, a step in the right direction, is not enough, and we get to see more example of what the movie believes a real man ultimately isn't. Mac loses his head, so he loses his head; Dillon gets closer, behaving against his own self interest and trying to redeem his actions that got the group here in the first place, but he's still a soldier, not understanding his opponent and just trying to outgun it. Billy takes one step closer, losing everything about him that makes him a soldier and facing the monster as only a man, but he's still facing the creature on his terms and not meeting it with its own. Poncho is a senseless casualty; if his death has connotations that support the goal of deconstructing the 80s action hero, I haven't spotted it, but the idea of him being injured due to their own tactics and dying by pure bad luck is probably something that could fit in to a Vietnam reading of the movie. As it is, the final turning point is Dutch losing everything that he has that makes him a soldier and finally, if only by chance, learning to use the Predator's own tactics against it. It's fitting that the first time we see the Predator in its full form is at the very moment that it can't see Dutch. He finally understands what it means to win here, to become what has hunted to him, to apply the same subversive and tricky tactics that have been used against him, to exploit his enemy's expectations and never face it head on.

In the process, the Predator finally recognises Dutch as a worthy opponent, someone who has truly taken up the mantle of what the movie sees as real manhood, not some static thing that always must be, but something that adapts in order to stay at the top. It's in and of itself a good representation of the transformation Dutch has gone through over the course of the movie that also suggests of the iconic 80s action that hero that it must be changed in to something almost unrecognisable in order to maintain the value that it has. The fact that even as Dutch reaches the point of worthiness and is still beaten down, only to defeat the Predator with deceptive tactics once more, supports this idea. It's a thought at least, especially when you consider that it's coming off of several action hero hits for Schwarzenegger and comes right as the action genre is transformed by Die Hard, I think the film pulls it off with effective, if sometimes conflicting, results.

26. Predator 2 (1990) - May 6th

Closer to RoboCop than its predecessor in terms of satire, less focus in the point of its satire, a more heartfelt lead in Glover's Harrigan. This isn't as good or iconic a film, but it still carries itself with a sense of trashy B-movie bite.

Like a lot of the mediocre films I enjoy, it's the little things that make the difference. Bill Paxton's character alone elevates this film, a fast talker that's also a team player, with his own little arc (maybe more a straight line, but still) couched within the film's excessive attempts at painting a 'grimdark future for society'. The satire itself is actually fine, this idea of conflicts as literal heat, with the Predator as an avatar of violence inherent in this sort of system that the writers see as inevitable. It's blatant and a little fun for its trouble, and it comes with a slightly alternative take on the Predator itself, one that characterises it as more petulant than its predecessor, suggesting a younger, less mature soul behind this particular creature's eyes. - 6/10

Published May 7th, 2018