Archive for April 2022
18 posts from 01 to 26 April 2022.
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A very modern take on the revenge plot even though our “hero” murders uncountable people in the most gruesome ways, his raiders of the land of Rus burn up hundreds in a barn (Come and See, history rhymes), and not even his mother escapes his night blade. This is exactly what Beowulf wanted to be, but wasn’t.
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The missing biopic of a forgotten hero. Many civil wars were avoided by his charisma, calm and quietude.
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A wide ranging anthology of The Matrix-adjacent stuff.
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Ironically, this is a forgettable “sci-fi”-ish thriller about memories and murders. Linda Fiorentino is the scientist who does basically nothing.
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Footloose meets Hairspray. Came for Linda Fiorentino, but she’s only a bit part, as the speakeasy owner. The lead is literally a James Dean clone, a dead ringer.
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Again? The last one had funny moments, like laughing his ass off at Camero-bot 9000 being PM, and having MI6 brought to you by Toshiba, but this is just another low rent Bond-like with repeated jokes. I’m all up for sticking one up Silicon Valley twats, but this is not it.
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Some Irishman called Fitzgerald, a failed businessman, goes big or goes home. The crazy part is that it works, he goes big.
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Nic Cage plays himself, playing himself. I’ve never meta joke I didn’t like.
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Maradonna, Miss Universe and Leonard Nimoy enter a Swiss hotel… This script has incredible jokes, followed by cruel and mean philosophical meanderings into the Universe. Just like life…
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Neurotic Park Avenue socialite meets the real world, tragedy ensues.
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A feature-length The Thick of It series, about war and walls (either Gaza or some local council). Has familiar faces on similar situations, but they get fucked in less time.
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Another serious-ish small-town-freaking-sucks film, but with jokes. Has David Brent as the working class patriarch (insert Gervais giggle). In a scale of The Town to Straw Dogs, this is about a 2 in the cosmopolitrometer.
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What’s this, I don’t even… That cold opening sets the tone, but it gets progressively weirder and weirder. Goes to very dark places, but never raises above voyeurism and gratuitous shock value.
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The Neil Marshall version, Neil Marshalled up to eleven. Gory as hell, in a fun way.
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Fucking Bruges. Interplay of bizarre humour and gruesome violence.
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A letdown compared to the first one. Box-ticking exercise, everybody is just going through the motions.
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Basic home drama set in the dust bowl ages (even though it seems like the 19th century). Visuals over plot, with top actors.
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The Dark Seven, a bit lighter due to contractual obligations. Worth it to go in without any marketing exposure. The Penguin is fucking rad, as are all other birds!