david-fisher26

I see all of the flaws noted by those writing both good and bad reviews, but am I the only one to think that this is a subtly-disguised tragedy? That alone makes it brave and elegiac. What is the point of the brief early sequence of soldiers rushing to pick up 'one male and one female'. Is it not obvious, because of one soldier's 'theme song', that they are the same team heard at the 'happy ending' of the film? They are attacked by the aliens, and someone is heard calling for an air-strike on the location. The briefly glimpsed target looks like the gas station at the end of the movie. My interpretation is that this is a tragic Romeo & Juliet plot, in the sense that the couple is dead at the end.

Near to the start, the victim's mother describes huge amounts of blood. With only the face being spared a savage attack. But during the trial, the scene-of-crime photos show no sign of any blood at all; just a few neat wounds. This dichotomy is so extreme that this viewer was entirely distracted from watching the remainder of the movie with any interest. What did it mean? Was it some sort of 'high art' concept? Was it the start of some sort of science fictional adventure? Do the French police wash bodies, launder bed-clothes and wash walls before taking a literally sanitized picture? What does it mean?

This series reminds one of Agatha Christie stories in that the investigators wander around talking informally to the suspects and failing to make notes. That somehow works with Christie's amateur and unofficial characters, Marple and Poirot. The problem with this series is that the characters are supposed to be serving police officers but act like amateurs ... horny amateurs. Both the young attractive female detective and the old grizzled and unprepossessing male detective are not slow to have sex with their colleagues, and even with potential suspects. In one episode they even deliberately take drugs and drink to the extent of being helpless; that might be required of an officer working undercover, but these randy clowns do not have that excuse. The general impression is one of sloppiness: a murder-scene is fenced off, but nobody is placed on guard. Critical remains are discovered, and they simply wander off without reporting or protecting them. It is lucky that this all postdates Inspector Clouseau, or Peter Sellers would have been out of a job!

I agree with all of the 1-star comments, so I am making just one point. I thought that it was going to become interesting near to the end because, as the Pitt character took the little girl away in a taxi, after luring her with food, and then took her to his hotel room, I was fully expecting him to be arrested as a paedophile. This would have been a very interesting twist because it would have then turned the movie into a courtroom scenario in which the hero had to defend his theory (and himself) scientifically in a milieu which was immune to mystical claptrap. The movie could have been an inverted (secular) analogy of 'Inherit the Wind'!

The present criticism applies not only to this offering but also to similar works in the same genre ... even the lightweight Mission Impossible franchise. The central problem with these clever-clever plots and their evil geniuses is that they trip over their own too-convoluted story-lines. In The Night Manager this occurs at the moment of the fake child-kidnapping. This is a particularly tense moment, with low-quality and unstable mercenaries facing presumably highly-trained professional armed bodyguards. So why not let it all go wrong? If Roper is so untouchable, and the good-guys are already willing to stoop to such illegal conduct, why not have Roper 'accidentally' shot dead then and there? Problem solved with perhaps just a little glitch marring someone's career. This story instead smacks of an ex-spy self-indulgently, and profitably, re-working his old day-dreamed schemes.

This is a wonderful antidote to the present zeitgeist and to the propaganda put out by the gay community. The playing-down of the supposed genius of this pathetic 'one-liner' playwright, and the playing-up of the turn-of-the-century insults voiced by a nauseated public, reminds one that - in spite of the tectonic shift in media-engineered perceptions - the details of the physical proclivities of Wilde and his friends were, are and always will be, unnatural and unwholesome.

This is a very enjoyable, inventive and action-packed ... but something jars. It is this: a virus which kills all drug-users on the planet seems to be eminently desirable. Yes, they are people ... but they are people who put a great deal of money and power into the hands of criminals. Their sacrifice would have represented a great public service!

It is amazing that a movie which is so packed with threatening characters and ultra-violence can be so boring that it is difficult to stay awake.

As a physicist, I like this film for various extraneous reasons. For instance, the concept of stealing data via the mains supply recalls an old (circa 1980s) pre-bluetooth idea for linking household devices in which a high-frequency signal was superposed on the high-voltage supply. Secondly, the use of a 'Green' light-bulb as a torture device highlights the manner in which the general public has been hoodwinked. That is, a full cost/benefit analysis shows that the energy-saving arising from using such bulbs is negated by the extra cost resulting from the safe disposal of used bulbs. Of course, little attempt is made to do so safely, leading to pollution of the environment: so, not very Green after all! On the more general theme of 'pollution', all of those movies in which the heroes receive the personal thanks of the US President have been forever tainted by the present incumbent. Just imagine the relevant scene in this movie. Imagine the Tangerine Testicle probably taking the credit for their success. Advice to directors: never again include such meetings in new movies: Trump has poisoned that well for the foreseeable future.

When I saw Zorba the Greek as a child, I swore never to visit Greece. Having seen this film, I shall never visit Egypt.

Incredibly touching and, although the central twist is easy to guess and is revealed early on, that doesn't matter. It also seems confusing until one realizes why the film keeps switching between black & white and colour. There are two parallel stories being told; which one do you want to be true?

I am not fond of Dr Who at the best of times, but I hate any popular TV series or movies which mislead the general public concerning the worthless con-man, Nikola Tesla. His name had almost been forgotten by the 1960s, not least because there was nothing for which to remember him. He had a slight success in his day, thanks mainly to his theft, aided by Westinghouse, of the inventions of others. When his companies justifiably failed, he kept himself in the public eye by telling outrageous lies to journalists concerning antigravity machines, death-rays and 'energy-from-nowhere' (aka perpetual motion). It is those lies, now endlessly recycled and embroidered by the informational sewage-system known as the Internet, that keep his unwanted memory alive. When will some scriptwriter finally do the world a service and 'do a hatchet-job' on this insane fraudster. It should be just as easy as copying nonsense from the internet: after all, it is nigh impossible to find a physicist (apart from the equally ludicrous Sheldon Cooper) who has a good word to say about Tesla.

I think that this show, although probably originally intended to be purely exploitative, has accidentally served as a healthy antidote to the unrealistic bodily expectations fostered by Hollywood and the fashion industry. There is indeed 'someone for everyone'. But there is one irritating factual error which is made in every show. The presenter repeatedly asks what a contestant 'thinks of the vagina'. That question cannot be answered unless that contestant has access to stirrups and a speculum! All that can be seen are the vulva.

First there was the atrocious War of the Worlds re-make which was used to force-feed the audience with some sort of half-baked topical environmental-disaster message, and now this. Gatiss had previously presented an erudite documentary about the entire Dracula franchise, and so it promised to be eminently safe in his hands. But no. The initial twists, such as making Van Helsing a nun, were irritating to the purist but did not immediately condemn it. The big problem was that this nun seemed to be progressively channeling the insouciant incompetence of the new female Doctor Who (with whom the writers are also connected) and the plot rapidly descended into the chaotic ad hoc lurches in logic which characterize the Who series. There even seemed to be an arch nod to the No.9 series of TV dramas (written by Gatiss's League of Gentlemen pals). The third part went full-on Dr Who, complete with helicopters, modern weaponry and generalized sound and fury ... signifying nothing. Avid Dr Who fans were probably wondering why the nun's descendant did not call upon Unit or Torchwood for help. All-in-all, this was an incredibly lazy piece of work, perhaps based upon ideas developed for other TV series, and is best forgotten. Do you remember, Mr Gatiss, what Irving said about Stoker's attempt to stage Dracula? To that extent at least you have honoured the franchise ... by going full-circle.

At first sight, one could be forgiven for thinking that this is a magnificent spoof in the style of 'Spinal Tap', with a cast of brilliant actors speaking the most outrageously ludicrous lines while keeping a straight face. Indeed, one somehow expects every dial in sight to be labelled up to 11.

The plot of the film also contains hints of 'Rain Man' in that the central character, Searl, is a sub-normal orphan who has a repetitive dream which shows him how to build a perpetual motion machine out of permanent magnets; quite contrary to the laws of physics. Not only that, but it unexpectedly turns out to be an anti-gravity machine as well (quite contrary to the laws of physics) and Searl loses no time in building his first flying saucer (out of wood, naturally). A fleet of 41 flying saucers is eventually built and tested by NASA and the US military. Somehow, this fails to impress anybody and most of the UFOs are sent into outer space 'for safety'; except perhaps for one which might possibly be stored in Archangel. Not all of these details are actually in the film. I have been doing some background research. And this is where the joke ends. All of this is supposed to be true, and it is not a spoof film, but a documentary. Suddenly, this puts a very different complexion on things. This is no longer a good-natured spoof, but a rather disquieting parade of people who are either mentally ill, or polished confidence tricksters. If the former, the film-makers have been exploitative. If the latter, they have aided the promotion of an investment scam. Because, of course, there is absolutely no proof that any of the claimed events ever took place. The SEG, the supposed perpetual motion machine, is seen only as a computer animation, and the 'evidence' for the flying saucers is as convincing as, well, that for any other UFO sighting. Even this would be borderline acceptable. However, Searl (who, incidentally has a long criminal record)continues to seek funding with which to 're-build' the devices that never existed in the first place. It may seem silly to equate Searl to Madoff but, in effect, they are cut from the same cloth, and one can quite easily imagine this film being used by a prosecuting lawyer as evidence in some future fraud trial.