I went to Harlaw Reservoir and sang Seal’s ‘Kiss from a Rose’ as a camping associate shat in a bush.
Nothing else to report, really. The main outcome of the weekend was a general consensus that Cobra Kai is better than The Karate Kid (1984).
12 Monkeys (1995) is way better than I remembered.
In the midst of a global pandemic as it grabs peak humanity by the testicles, I sat down to watch 12 Monkeys (1995) again after a decade-long hiatus. And what smashing, thought-provoking, thoroughly enthralling sci-fi it is, a Terry Gilliam movie that isn’t uneven and all over the place, which basically makes it an anomaly. 1995 was kind to movies, and Bruce Willis was at his peak in the year of the Eric Cantona kung-fu kick.
There is a mind-blowing scene in this set on the Western Front during WWI; it is so magnificent that it almost derails the rest of the film. However, the character dynamics and pacing manage to keep it together and build to a stunning denouement, that and the inspired Vertigo (1958) references.
And this is one of the few movies that actually depicts people in ‘mental hospitals’ or ‘institutions’ as actually having meaningful, occasionally profound insights into the peculiarities of the social order.
And seek out its art-farty precursor La Jetée (1962). It’s definitely not shite.
Snappage from a lockdown.
And aye, I am ashamed of the snap featuring me with gloves on grasping the 7 Up bottle. It was taken in front of a police station. This is my excuse.
Everest (2015) is nauseating viewing.
Based on the 1996 Mount Everest disaster, this is your generic retelling fare. I hated this movie, utterly hated it. The picture comprised an array of rather irritating archetypes feeling very sorry for themselves because they experience the harsh elements on the highest mountain on the planet. There is no drama to proceedings at all because they are barely characters and get what is coming to them. Like, what did you expect? It’s Mount Everest, not an indoor climbing centre.
What the fuck even is a ‘guided climb’? I do not understand why it is even legal. There is a quote from the only semi-interesting ‘character’ in the movie (the redoubtable Jake Gyllenhaal) which is something like, “If you need help getting up the thing you should not even be here. “
I like the sound of that and it is a rather universal statement which applies to any endeavour. The movie looks nice – well shot and framed. It’s just pointless, a fawning ode to stupidity.
Avoid.
Further reading:
Demolition Man (1993) was some premonition.
Another memorable number from the 1993 movie vault, which I often posit the ‘best year ever for movies’: Mrs. Doubtfire, Schindler’s List, The Fugitive, Jurassic Park, Tombstone, Falling Down. Am I wrong? Have I missed anything?
It’s in all honesty not much of an action movie, the scenes terribly staged and edited, another case of the viewer not having a clue what is going on. It’s as unimaginative as it gets, ADHD Eisenstein. However, as satire and social commentary it is terrifyingly on the ball about today’s nightmarish cultural landscape. It actually predicted 2020.
It nails the all-out assault on language, the SJW proscription against alternate viewpoints, the restriction of real individualism in the quest for Utopia. Who knew that offending someone could be a crime? Well, it sadly is these days. Because they (the crusading creatures) have been allowed to get away with this.
The only thing this movie gets wrong is the method of wiping one’s arse. Britons will be doing it ‘Old Skool’ until the next extinction-level event.
Abbeyhill, Edinburgh. A cat eyeballed me this morning. I ran away.
Nothing much to see here – just the Abbeyhill jungle cat lording it over its kingdom.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 