This was a low-key semi-thriller, a slow-burning affair that worked perfectly for a bit. For an entire 80 minutes, it was genuinely unpredictable and with a fleeting romance that convinced. Then it got boring and I was bored.
Last 20 minutes were hard work. I wish I turned it off.
Next.
It wasn’t my choice to watch this ugly tripe.
And I’ll never watch it again, or any movie featuring anyone involved in it.
Unfunny, painfully coarse to the level of beyond cringe, and just plain annoying.
If someone gave me a DVD of this, I’d use it as a weapon to assault them with.
Bye for now.
It’s Jaime Lannister with outrageous moustache in a leading role, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau a world away from Westeros in this brutal crime drama.
I do like a gritty thriller with a bare-bones clinical style, no faffing around. The opening voice-over is nauseating and sounds like it was written by Rocky Balboa during his … Rocky Balboa (2006) phase. But after this misstep, it got bloody good.
It shows you that anyone can end up in the slammer given unfortunate curve balls. A hellish urban landscape follows the frightful prison experience, the reality that you’re in it for life. The odds are stacked so high against this lad you just pray he makes it out alive.
It’s got its cliches aplenty but it doesn’t matter as it’s damn well put together. And the music had a bit of Nick Cave & Warren Ellis about it.
Superb movie, proper carnage.
This movie is the Al Lettieri Show – the Sollozzo fella who was good with a knife. He dwarfs everyone else, and makes a bit of a mockery of them. A star vehicle that goes nowhere, with the worst actress you’ll ever see. I watched Love Story (1970) once and wished to string myself up.
The constant zoom shots and unnecessary cuts to insignificant items was breathtakingly amateurish. Pekinpah had no idea where to plonk his camera and no conception on how to even focus on a narrative connectivity between shots; accidentally crossing the line was his only defining characteristic. The most overrated director. The sound design is also horrible and the music is intrusive and contributes nothing.
The remake is somehow better. And that’s also a pile of shite.
Dwight Yoakam has a cowboy hat on (shock horror) in this cliche-ridden snorefest, and the moment I saw his vexing, talentless chops I knew this movie would be shite. The stinking screenplay underpins an acting troupe from Hell. The wee kid in this is so annoying I was praying that the chicken ate him.
Funny moment was Clint rejecting the advances of a hooker because he has better things to do. I had better things to do, also, so made the executive decision to terminate the 48 minutes I endured of this terrible flick and proceeded to go for a dump.
Rubbish.
An hour of breezy climbing-the-ladder banter, researched kind of well but still replete with whopping inaccuracies, Vice (2018) holds in admiration its protagonist’s uncanny appreciation of the mechanisms of power. Perfectly decent performances and a freewheeling narrative structure lost my interest just when events should have made the content interesting. It got decidedly shite by the last throes and I had no choice but to turn the farce off once the director broke the fourth/fifth/sixth wall.
Perhaps there wasn’t much human substance there to document beyond 60 mins.
Belter of a trailer (and tune), though:
For some reason I cannot and do not wish to fathom, a Mad Max ‘Easter egg’ appeared in the revolting Deadpool & Wolverine (2024) and it almost sullied my appreciation for anything Mad Max or even the name Max. Almost.
Furiosa (2024), a prequel set decades prior to the magisterial Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), thankfully does not feature a Deadpool or a Wolverine. Cunts.
Anyway, what was this movie like, you may enquire?
I was expecting a frenzied shitload of George Miller mental action which is always of the most inventive and considered (visually) kind, and he delivered. I was never in any doubt. It’s a feast for the eyes and ears, the stunt work once again mesmerising. And it actually has a deep storyline and characters for this kind of preposterous fare.
I hear it flopped at the box office.
Audiences are stupid.
Brian Blessed sans the beard and his general all-round formulaic Brian Blessedness was at least a shock. We also have shite costumes and dodgy wigs chucked into this insipid, very British mix/mess.
It’s essential history and for the time, I assume, it was event television. But bloody hell it isn’t half fucking boring. I couldn’t get beyond the embarrassing plastic sets and that did it for me. Did they shoot this in a prison? I had to pull the plug for I couldn’t suspend my disbelief.
The likes of Lars von Trier needn’t bother with an art department because that’s his obvious (oh so provocative!) intention; here, the skullduggery had the appearance of a school play.
I’m sure it’s captivating but no thanks, I have a toga from a fancy dress shop I need to attend to.
Ah, yes. It’s 1989 and Back to the Future Part II has ended on a cliffhanger and it’s a ‘To Be Concluded’. But nah, here’s a preview at the end credits to the final installment which is on its way very soon. Audacious.
A first for cinema?
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It’s a promising premise that gradually feels like it’s segueing into gritty Euro thriller territory, a mature version of Taken (2008), but sadly doesn’t. We have a barely interesting character study by the end and the decisions the lad makes don’t appear logical (or believable).
I almost wished it to descend into mindless bone-crunching mayhem. Just for the ‘lolz’.
It was not meant to be.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 