There’s archive footage in episode 2 of this Netflix doc when post-Simeone lash-out you see hundreds of demented West Ham United fans outside the Man Utd team bus before a match going apeshit and baying for a public hanging.
You see in these moments how pathetic the masses can be.
That’s the big take from this series, which is beguilingly directed by the ‘Indian’ bloke from Short Circuit (1986).
Johnny 5 is alive.
I’m sure this was about something, and that something was something other than surface sheen and pyrotechnics, but it wasn’t something that interested me in the slightest.
So I won’t be bothering with a review other than that of Kenneth Branagh’s Russian ‘accent’, which receives a 0/5 from me.
Bye for now.
I expected something abysmal but instead found Mark Margolis, David Keith (not to be confused with Keith David), Vondas from The Wire, Joey Pants, the hulking Michael Clarke Duncan, and a possessed Colin Farrell having the time of his life, seemingly (“I want a bloody costume”). A colourful cast, folk that can act. Despite the unwatchable Jon Favreau (he is awful in everything), it’s not bad at all.
I was terribly entertained, and a sequel would have been at least pleasant. The movie has the standard silly one-liners and inevitable awkward attempts at comedy, but it’s suitably grim and grimy, and the story has some basis in a believable reality. I was also borderline shocked to see how much of this movie was appropriated for Batman Begins (2005), and the ending lifted verbatim.
Affleck is also fine in it. And the music is banging.
#WakeMeUpInside.
This movie is beyond masterpiece. Exquisite in all ways. It shows how awful, petty, cruel and overbearingly nasty folk are when they’re in a system built on dogma which makes no sense … it’s essentially communism in your nutshell. Imagine having to live within this horrid wee cocoon environment?
Anyway, big kudos to the hero who makes up shit and at the end of it all gets a wee book dedicated to him. Top lad.
And Gabriel Yared should score everything in life. The opening of a door or the emptying of a bin (any bin). I’d watch that with his tunes. He engulfs the mundane with tragedy.
Celebrating 20 years of Peep Show.
The indelible memory for me will forever remain Jeremy running over a dog and then eating it on a barge during Mark’s ad hoc job interview.
Because we can all relate to that.
The incredible archive footage, the level of research, the interviews, the music, the sound of Laurence Olivier.
Sublime and unrivalled.
A behemoth chimp with an affinity for sign language. It wouldn’t be the first time for such a revelation – Koko.
It’s quite average in a pleasing fashion compared with most of the shite you see from these Multiverse/Monsterverse/Whatever worlds. What remains is the excruciating dialogue.
A non-character/cardboard hiree offers an observation regarding a life-changing vignette and a lad (usually a lad) retorts by saying the glaringly obvious.
It goes like this:
“It’s an easy mission, a kid could do it.”
“I hate kids.”
That’s the nature of these loopy exchanges, the gems from the writing room. There is no reason for anyone to spiel stuff like this, but they still do. It’s all confusing.
Just have folk in these flicks not speak, and present them reacting all flummoxed to stomping monsters merely through facial tics.
Good stuff in it: the voice of Lance Reddick (beautiful), and a monkey fighting a lizard on an aircraft carrier was absolutely insane in its realisation.
Is that it?
Watch it for 45 mins and then have a nap.
You won’t remember this film.
Anxiety, extreme pettiness, and cascading psyches in the suffocating urban nightmare that is modern living, which is a mission at times. You really don’t know what might happen next in this show, and it has a Magnolia (1999) quality to it. The last two episodes approached the ludicrous but then I did consider the overwhelming evidence that these rivals frequently teeter on the barking mad classification, so it all sort of works.
And where would these series be without smartphones? I suppose it’s an accurate reflection of things.
Black comedy with some pathos, and it doesn’t outstay its welcome. Better than most offerings out there.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 