I am pleased to say that Rogue One is the awesome Star Wars movie that fans and critics alike have been waiting for probably since Return of the Jedi. With Episodes I, II & III being huge missteps, and as The Force Awakens was basically a remake of A New Hope, it's nice to see a Star Wars film that injects a little grit and depth into the proceedings.
For anyone who doesn't already know, Rogue One is the prequel to A New Hope. It's the story of the Rebel fighters who steal the plans to the first Death Star, making Luke Skywalker's entire adventure possible in the first place. The film centers around Jyn Erso, played by Felicity Jones, who is the child of Imperial engineer Galen Erso, played by an earnest Mads Mikkelsen. As the chief designer of the formidable Death Star, a space station designed to destroy entire planets, Galen follows his conscience and attempts to flee the Empire, so as to avoid completing the terrible project. But lo and behold, Galen and his family are found by the Imperials, which sets off his daughter Jen's journey towards joining the rebellion and stopping the Empire's greatest weapon.
What follows is a darker, grittier version of the Star Wars universe than we've seen since The Empire Strikes Back, or maybe ever, with a cast of great actors that imbue the film with a gravitas that nicely centers the harrowing plot. Diego Luna steps in as Cassian Andor, a rough around the edges Rebel whose motivations are unclear, and Alan Tudyk plays the reprogrammed Imperial droid K-2SO (Essentially a C-3P0 stand-in, but hilarious nonetheless. Also, Tudyk played the chicken in Moana. Seriously awesome). Together the trio sets out to stop the Empire's evil machinations, and along the way get in a series of shootouts and space battles that often come off more like scenes from a war film than a light hearted sci-fi space romp. Indeed, there's been rumblings that Disney had the film reedited as a result of the first cut being too dark, and the final product has definitely retained shades of that darkness, part of which stems from a sort of realism. For example, Donnie Yen plays Chirrut Îmwe, a sort of Jedi monk who is more of a meditative believer than a lightsaber wielding warrior. That's the kind of detail that gives the film a more human element. It also doesn't hurt that things like this are avoided entirely altogether.
Rogue One benefits from the fact that it knows what kind of film it wants to be; That is, a straight forward, well-acted take on the Star Wars universe. Sure, the script isn't Shakespeare, but given that The Force Awakens felt like one big homage to a trilogy of films that most of us have seen dozens of times, it bodes well that the universe can be expanded in a way that is fun, interesting, and at least a little gritty. I'm looking forward to the stand-alone Han Solo film.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Finally, ROGUE ONE: A STAR WARS STORY Is the Star Wars Film We've Been Waiting For
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Friday, December 9, 2016
Obsessive Chaotic Delirium: THE LAST OF US: PART II Trailer
Monday, December 5, 2016
Brainstorming: WESTWORLD Episode 10 (The Bicameral Mind) - WARNING: SPOILERS
Let me say first, I'm greatly
relieved about the season finale of Westworld. If this episode hadn't been
good, it would have pretty much ended my interest in this show, as I think it
would have for a lot of other people as well. The Maze, Dolores's weird flashbacks,
Bernard's forced suicide; They all needed plausible explanations and
resolutions in order for the show to maintain any kind of momentum into Season
2.
Thankfully, we got this ripping season finale, which moved us out of Westworld and more into the "real" world, with Maeve gang-busting out of the facility with two of her Host cohorts, and bringing Bernard back online in the process. They go out literally guns blazing, tearing their way through facility security guards in way that suggests this show is really some kind of Terminator-esque, Rise of the Machines origin story. But when Maeve finally makes it to the train, finally free of her false world, she turns back, newly resolute on finding her child (The one that's supposedly fake because of the memories planted in her).
That brings us to the central theme of the episode: Choices. Apparently the Maze is a metaphor for Arnold's process through which the Hosts can achieve consciousness, making choices that either brings them closer to or further away from gaining sentient status. Every Host in Westworld can achieve consciousness, but only through making choices, and in the case of this episode, that means shooting a whole bunch of people.
The Man in Black finally has Dolores cornered, and he forces her to explain the Maze to him, which involves her showing him a child's toy maze. The game belonged to Arnold's son, whom we learn was real and actually died of cancer, motivating Arnold to attempt and achieve consciousness within the Hosts. So when those Hosts kept telling the Man in Black that "The Maze isn't meant for you," they were right. But the Man in Black still wants the Hosts to fight back, to bring real world stakes into Westworld, and it's upon learning the Will is the Man in Black, and that we've been watching two stories occurring at different points in time, taking place side by side, that things really come full circle. The Man in Black/Will owns Westworld, and he has been on an epic quest to make the world he owns make him feel real pain. Dolores obliges him, breaking his arm, and telling him that Westworld belongs to the hosts, again a Rise of the Machines style proclamation.
But there are even more revelations to be had, as we also learn that Ford knew of Arnold's drive to achieve consciousness in the Hosts, and that Arnold did not want the park opened because he feared such an existence as sentient beings would be torture for them. So Arnold conspired with Dolores to kill all the hosts in Westworld, by creating a new persona to implant in her mind: Wyatt. Yes, the same Wyatt that the Man in Black/Will has been searching for this entire season. That storyline was a red herring, a legendarily murderous but ultimately non-existent character who is instead the embodiment of Arnold's desire to destroy Westworld before it had even begun, which meant destroying himself as well. Dolores shoots Arnold, and then herself, in the hopes that no one would be able to revive the Hosts without Arnold. So we now know the reason why Bernard was really built: As an Arnold replacement needed to run Westworld (This is probably the single most annoying thing about this show, at least for me. The ability to just build a super smart Host creator upon the death of the real one is just way too convenient to actually be plausible, even in a fictional world).
Ford has something up his sleeve, however, and it turns out his new narrative is exactly what the Man in Black/Will has been looking for: Real world stakes and real world danger. In order to become truly conscious, Ford explains to Dolores, you have to make tough choices, which in this case means shooting Ford in the back of the head, in front of Westworld's board of directors, no less. The Man in Black/Will looks gleeful at the prospect of being killed by one of the many previously decommissioned Hosts descending upon the board's party, and we are left waiting for next season with the prospect of a machine uprising, which is what Ford's new secret narrative turns out to actually have been all along. Ford admits to having to having been persuaded by Arnold's pleas to free the Hosts after the fact, and now claims to not only support their quests for consciousness, but to allow them to wreak havoc upon the real world.
Things are still convoluted to be sure, but we've finally gotten some satisfying explanations for this season's most maddening questions. What the Man in Black is looking for, what the Maze is, and what is going on in Dolores's mind have been wrapped up, leading us toward a very different season 2. The show started out as a sort of futuristic corporate drama, suddenly switching to a robots-with-feelings fight back thriller halfway through the season. The unexpected shift places the show on shaky ground, but things have been somewhat shored up with the season finale, with a lot more thrills (And hopefully Samurai World) to come.
Thankfully, we got this ripping season finale, which moved us out of Westworld and more into the "real" world, with Maeve gang-busting out of the facility with two of her Host cohorts, and bringing Bernard back online in the process. They go out literally guns blazing, tearing their way through facility security guards in way that suggests this show is really some kind of Terminator-esque, Rise of the Machines origin story. But when Maeve finally makes it to the train, finally free of her false world, she turns back, newly resolute on finding her child (The one that's supposedly fake because of the memories planted in her).
That brings us to the central theme of the episode: Choices. Apparently the Maze is a metaphor for Arnold's process through which the Hosts can achieve consciousness, making choices that either brings them closer to or further away from gaining sentient status. Every Host in Westworld can achieve consciousness, but only through making choices, and in the case of this episode, that means shooting a whole bunch of people.
The Man in Black finally has Dolores cornered, and he forces her to explain the Maze to him, which involves her showing him a child's toy maze. The game belonged to Arnold's son, whom we learn was real and actually died of cancer, motivating Arnold to attempt and achieve consciousness within the Hosts. So when those Hosts kept telling the Man in Black that "The Maze isn't meant for you," they were right. But the Man in Black still wants the Hosts to fight back, to bring real world stakes into Westworld, and it's upon learning the Will is the Man in Black, and that we've been watching two stories occurring at different points in time, taking place side by side, that things really come full circle. The Man in Black/Will owns Westworld, and he has been on an epic quest to make the world he owns make him feel real pain. Dolores obliges him, breaking his arm, and telling him that Westworld belongs to the hosts, again a Rise of the Machines style proclamation.
But there are even more revelations to be had, as we also learn that Ford knew of Arnold's drive to achieve consciousness in the Hosts, and that Arnold did not want the park opened because he feared such an existence as sentient beings would be torture for them. So Arnold conspired with Dolores to kill all the hosts in Westworld, by creating a new persona to implant in her mind: Wyatt. Yes, the same Wyatt that the Man in Black/Will has been searching for this entire season. That storyline was a red herring, a legendarily murderous but ultimately non-existent character who is instead the embodiment of Arnold's desire to destroy Westworld before it had even begun, which meant destroying himself as well. Dolores shoots Arnold, and then herself, in the hopes that no one would be able to revive the Hosts without Arnold. So we now know the reason why Bernard was really built: As an Arnold replacement needed to run Westworld (This is probably the single most annoying thing about this show, at least for me. The ability to just build a super smart Host creator upon the death of the real one is just way too convenient to actually be plausible, even in a fictional world).
Ford has something up his sleeve, however, and it turns out his new narrative is exactly what the Man in Black/Will has been looking for: Real world stakes and real world danger. In order to become truly conscious, Ford explains to Dolores, you have to make tough choices, which in this case means shooting Ford in the back of the head, in front of Westworld's board of directors, no less. The Man in Black/Will looks gleeful at the prospect of being killed by one of the many previously decommissioned Hosts descending upon the board's party, and we are left waiting for next season with the prospect of a machine uprising, which is what Ford's new secret narrative turns out to actually have been all along. Ford admits to having to having been persuaded by Arnold's pleas to free the Hosts after the fact, and now claims to not only support their quests for consciousness, but to allow them to wreak havoc upon the real world.
Things are still convoluted to be sure, but we've finally gotten some satisfying explanations for this season's most maddening questions. What the Man in Black is looking for, what the Maze is, and what is going on in Dolores's mind have been wrapped up, leading us toward a very different season 2. The show started out as a sort of futuristic corporate drama, suddenly switching to a robots-with-feelings fight back thriller halfway through the season. The unexpected shift places the show on shaky ground, but things have been somewhat shored up with the season finale, with a lot more thrills (And hopefully Samurai World) to come.
Friday, December 2, 2016
Obsessive Chaotic Delirium: THE NEON DEMON and Nicholas Winding Refn - WARNING: SPOILERS
I finally got around to watching The Neon Demon last night, the latest film by Danish filmmaker Nicholas Winding Refn. Full disclosure: His film Drive is one of my all time favorite movies. Like, Top Ten Status. Its '80s style soundtrack and incredible color-saturated visuals told a modern day, Los Angeles criminal world-set fairytale that brought Refn something close to mainstream prominence. I read somewhere that Refn referred to Drive as being like "The Breakfast Club, but where a guy gets his head crushed," or something like that, which is an off-the-cuff analysis that gets you somewhere in the proximity of what the film is like. Since then, Refn has gone on to make Only God Forgives, also set in the criminal world, this time in Bangkok, Thailand. It was greeted with a much more chilly reception by critics, still carrying Refn's trademark of minimal dialogue and beautiful visuals, but telling a troubling story of a mother and son's relationship. Both films starred Ryan Gosling, whom Refn has touted as his on-screen proxy.
But with The Neon Demon, Refn has returned to Los Angeles sans Gosling, casting Elle Fanning in the lead role as Jesse, a fresh-from-Middle-America teen looking to break into the brutal fashion industry. Her backstory (Both parents dead, no further details given) is razor-thin, and this film is ultimate style-over-substance, relying heavily on the visuals and given little attention to character development or plot. Essentially, the central plot device is that Jesse is a natural beauty, breaking into the vicious LA fashion industry full of vacuous, surgically enhanced models who would like nothing more than to see her dead. Turns out, that's exactly what happens, but the where and how lead this film down the path of campy '70s horror films, leading up to three shocking scenes (Also a trademark of Refn) that cap off an otherwise slow, plodding film.
It can't be said this film is as good as Drive, and it really doesn't stand up to Only God Forgives either. The main problem is both those films had great performances (Albert Brooks in Drive, Kristen Scott Thomas in Only God Forgives) that gave them dramatic heft. Much has been made of Ryan Gosling's reserved, largely silent performances in those film, and it really only worked because Brooks and Scoot served as sinister foils to his blank canvas, their black-hearted motivations pushing up against his good intentions, to thrilling effect.
In The Neon Demon, things are more ambiguous, but it doesn't end up assisting the power of the film. Jesse knows she's beautiful, and as the story unfolds she becomes more willing to wield that fact against those who would see her fall. Jena Malone plays Ruby, a makeup artist infatuated with Jesse, or that is, right up until Jesse refuses to sleep with her. At that point all bets are off, and Ruby and two other rival models murder Jesse and eat her. So the film ends up being a kind of vampire fantasy tale, a literal and blunt analogy for an industry that is vampiric by an stretch of the imagination. The rest of the film is basically really cool looking shots of fashion models and Los Angeles. Keanu Reeves shows up, stunt-cast as a seedy hotel manager, which is probably one of the single most questionable casting choices I've ever seen, especially since Refn made incredible casting choices across the board in both Drive and Only God Forgives.
What The Neon Demon adds up to, if anything, to is going to be debated for a long time, and the same can be said about Only God Forgives, also a heavily misunderstood film. For my money, it's an offering of the gorgeous visuals of Refn's last two films, but lacks any kind of actual story, let alone a compelling one. The beauty of the film, like its characters, only runs skin deep.
But with The Neon Demon, Refn has returned to Los Angeles sans Gosling, casting Elle Fanning in the lead role as Jesse, a fresh-from-Middle-America teen looking to break into the brutal fashion industry. Her backstory (Both parents dead, no further details given) is razor-thin, and this film is ultimate style-over-substance, relying heavily on the visuals and given little attention to character development or plot. Essentially, the central plot device is that Jesse is a natural beauty, breaking into the vicious LA fashion industry full of vacuous, surgically enhanced models who would like nothing more than to see her dead. Turns out, that's exactly what happens, but the where and how lead this film down the path of campy '70s horror films, leading up to three shocking scenes (Also a trademark of Refn) that cap off an otherwise slow, plodding film.
It can't be said this film is as good as Drive, and it really doesn't stand up to Only God Forgives either. The main problem is both those films had great performances (Albert Brooks in Drive, Kristen Scott Thomas in Only God Forgives) that gave them dramatic heft. Much has been made of Ryan Gosling's reserved, largely silent performances in those film, and it really only worked because Brooks and Scoot served as sinister foils to his blank canvas, their black-hearted motivations pushing up against his good intentions, to thrilling effect.
In The Neon Demon, things are more ambiguous, but it doesn't end up assisting the power of the film. Jesse knows she's beautiful, and as the story unfolds she becomes more willing to wield that fact against those who would see her fall. Jena Malone plays Ruby, a makeup artist infatuated with Jesse, or that is, right up until Jesse refuses to sleep with her. At that point all bets are off, and Ruby and two other rival models murder Jesse and eat her. So the film ends up being a kind of vampire fantasy tale, a literal and blunt analogy for an industry that is vampiric by an stretch of the imagination. The rest of the film is basically really cool looking shots of fashion models and Los Angeles. Keanu Reeves shows up, stunt-cast as a seedy hotel manager, which is probably one of the single most questionable casting choices I've ever seen, especially since Refn made incredible casting choices across the board in both Drive and Only God Forgives.
What The Neon Demon adds up to, if anything, to is going to be debated for a long time, and the same can be said about Only God Forgives, also a heavily misunderstood film. For my money, it's an offering of the gorgeous visuals of Refn's last two films, but lacks any kind of actual story, let alone a compelling one. The beauty of the film, like its characters, only runs skin deep.
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