I_Ailurophile

On the one hand, 'Soldier,' 'Event Horizon,' and 'Resident Evil: Extinction,' not to mention 'The Three Musketeers,' among others. On the other hand, 'Resident Evil' sequels 'Afterlife' and 'Retribution.' At his best Paul W. S. Anderson makes genre larks that are very fun; at his worst and most indulgent, he loses all sense of craftsmanship to a brainworm that requires everything to look heedlessly Slick And Cool, with nothing else mattering. Meanwhile, I know nothing of the 'Monster hunter' game franchise except for the broad descriptions I've read of it. And so we come to the usual questions: How satisfying is this adaptation for game fans, and how satisfying is it for general audiences? How are the visuals and action sequences, on the one hand, and on the other hand, how is the writing, direction, and acting? Is there any substance here, or is it a total romp, and would Anderson put real care into it, or is it just an empty shell of pointless style? Should we be thanking Capcom for handing their franchise over to the filmmaker, or should we be chastising them?

Wow, the dialogue is abysmal. Like, laughably abhorrent. The characterizations truly aren't significantly better. The scene writing is fine so long as Anderson is whipping up ideas for a sequence of violence, or of gnarly sci-fi horror imagery, and the good news is that this is about 98% of the runtime. There is a plot here, so long as you consider "soldiers led by Milla Jovovich (no, not Natalie, not Artemis, but Jovovich herself) find themselves mystically teleported to a different world populated by enormous, deadly monsters" to be a 100% complete plot from beginning to end. Speaking of those deadly monsters, there was tremendous detail and texture put into their designs, and the artists behind the digital wizardry put in enough work so that the beasts often look fantastic. Then again, I did just say "often" and not "always." The thing about relying on computer-generated imagery over any practical effects or tangible creations is that it almost always looks worse the more we see of it, and ages rapidly. There are times when the creatures look amazing; there are times when they look like more detailed models cut from the same cloth as Goro in Anderson's own 'Mortal Kombat' of, um, twenty-five years earlier; there are times when they look like hyper-detailed action figures inserted into filmed footage and so far removed from the characters before us that the illusion of the danger is thoroughly dispelled.

We know Jovovich can genuinely act when she is required to do so, and we have seen even in her collaborations with husband Anderson that she is quite capable in a physically demanding lead role. I'm not familiar with Tony Jaa, meanwhile, but I'm vaguely aware of him. Not least with their aid, there are scenes in this picture that could have been meaningful and impactful in one way or another if they were treated appropriately. Unfortunately, the writing isn't great, the monsters only sometimes meet our expectations of fanciful behemoths in cinema, and despite working in the medium for many years, here Anderson does not illustrate the necessary skill and intelligence as a director to allow anything to have the intended effect. The action should be thrilling, the monsters should be horrifying, the touches of humor should be funny, the dramatic moments should carry weight, and Jovovich's (not Artemis') moments of discovery, preparation, and triumph should be rousing. None of this is true, however, at least not on a level of any real consequence. Only in irregular, intermittent, sporadic fleeting bursts does a moment of the predominant action hit us as viewers in the way that it should; we care about the monsters and the world they inhabit more than the characters we're supposed to empathize with. Take into account some questionable choices of shot composition and cinematography, dubious dynamics written for Jovovich as a white woman and Jaa as an "alien" man of color, and indeed an excess of flair and fashion over function, and the grand, epic, perilous adventure that 'Monster hunter' should have been sadly feels pretty hollow and frivolous, something that only passively commands any attention.

Please understand, I don't dislike this movie. I admire the production design and art direction, the costume design, the hair and makeup, and the props and weapons. I appreciate the practical stunts and effects that we do get, and the work of the special effects artists, even if the results are variable as we see them. I quite like Paul Haslinger's original music, a score that lends nice flavor throughout the proceedings. The filming locations are gorgeous. And in fairness to Anderson, and to his cast, in the back end of these 100-odd minutes the feature opens up some, and moves beyond "Okay, they're in a desert. Still in a desert. Yep, more desert. Is this all there is?" As Anderson shows us more of Capcom's world through his eyes this actually does become a little fun, and I discern more earnest care to have been exercised in the writing and direction - and therefore with the action, with the monsters, with the humor, with the dramatic beats, and sure enough, with Jovovich's journey, and even with the stylistic flourishes. Even this hardier portion isn't without its faults, as I believe the final stretch falls back to some degree on issues that troubled the flick from the outset, but it distinctly has a leg up and remains an improvement from where we began. I just wish that the same measure of consideration had gone into the totality of this title that went into its latter half, because if that had been the case, I'm certain it would have found more success. It definitely would have left a better impression, anyway.

For what it's worth, troubled as 'Monster hunter' is, when all is said and done it IS a good time. I don't regret watching; I'm glad I took the time. Only, again, I can readily discern where Anderson applied himself and where he did not, and it's not at all surprising that, pandemic or not, this release came and went with little notice. I'm glad for those who get more out of this than I did; I hope it scratches that itch for fans of the games. Maybe some day I'll come back to this and enjoy it even more, and as it is this does offer suitable entertainment. Just keep your expectations low, and don't go in assuming a revelatory experience, and maybe that's the best way to get the most out of 'Monster hunter.'

Despite a name that raises a skeptical eyebrow, 'Dog soldiers' is a fantastic action-horror flick. Much more than that, 'The descent' is surely one of the best horror films ever made. Hot on the heels of these early successes in his career, and given a significantly larger budget, what would filmmaker Neil Marshall do next? For one thing, he would hire some very noteworthy actors; Bob Hoskins, Malcolm McDowell, and Alexander Siddig are no small get. In fashioning a dark dystopian sci-fi action piece as a violent, bloody joyride, something made clear if we read anything at all about the production, he would also draw upon very obvious influences. From the outset we see notes of contemporary zombie fare (even though this isn't about zombies), and that's a sliver compared to the heavy inspiration taken from John Carpenter's 'Escape from New York' and 'Escape from L. A.,' with healthy doses to come of George Miller's 'Mad Max,' too, and more. With all this firmly in mind: watching for the first time seventeen years later, at a time in real life when one global pandemic just hit its fifth anniversary, another isn't far from breaking out, and some very wealthy and corrupt people are intent simply on harming as many as they can in any way they can while abandoning science and medicine - how is 'Doomsday,' actually?

It must be emphasized again how incredibly substantial the influences are, chiefly those I've already mentioned, but a lot more where those came from. Those prior works are all over Marshall's feature; the screenplay is saturated with them - from the plot to individual scenes, to characters, and even bits of dialogue - and so are the aesthetics. Mind you, it's definitely not as if the man is copying Carpenter, Miller, Walter Hill, Kevin Costner, and others note for note; even setting aside the additional infusion of medieval elements, don't fall into a trap of thinking this isn't distinct and original. Rather, it's that Marshall clearly loves these titles with all his heart, and 'Doomsday' is partly a love letter, and partly an effort to follow in the same footsteps. Happily, I think he roundly succeeded, and with flying colors. One can very well see where the budget went, because the costume design, hair, and makeup are flavorful and intoxicating, in my opinion surpassing the production design and art direction which are already rich with detail and imagination. We're treated more than not to real stunts, fight choreography, and practical effects including significant blood and gore, and these are all excellent without fail; where computer-generated imagery is employed it is sparing enough that it holds up well even after all this time (at that, looking better than some brand new releases of the 2020s). I appreciate the care for lighting, too, and while the cinematography doesn't make a major impression, there's not much arguing that on a fundamental level this is very pretty, which also says a lot about the filming locations in Scotland and South Africa.

Meanwhile, as Marshall had already handily demonstrated with his first two projects, he knows quite well as a director how to orchestrate shots and scenes to achieve maximum impact, even when our senses are being fairly consistently assaulted. True, the filmmaker isn't perfect; there are moments here that are self-indulgent and unnecessary (such as the rabbit, or much later, the car) or which may have benefited from a smidgen more restraint and deliberation (e.g., the last time we see Siddig's prime minister, or some of the CGI embellishments). But such instances are a far cry from the negligence illustrated in far weaker and more recent endeavors like 'The reckoning' or 'The lair,' and it is much more the case that even as action sequences are brutal and hard-hitting, Marshall shows a sense of style and even nuance to help them hit all the harder. Among other things this helps many aspects to stand out and have impact on their own merits despite obvious cinematic parallels, and for the whole to remain steady and vibrant even in those rare moments when we might expect the energy to die off some - and for the entirety to even be fun, with a sense of adventure about it, despite the inescapably grim nature of the material and the visions to greet us. To that same point, Marshall's solid direction allows the cast to shine with very physical, spirited performances of zest and vitality. This goes even for those AAA names and faces, even as their roles are more conventionally dramatic, and certainly for Rhona Mitra, starring as Snake Plissken stand-in Eden, and other core supporting actors like Adrian Lester. I do wonder, though, if it's not the case that the main cast aren't rather outshone - in this case by Craig Conway, gleefully chewing scenery as wild, vicious Sol, and possibly even more so by Lee-Anne Liebenberg in her still smaller part as Sol's lieutenant Viper. Creative character design and vivid performances can go a long way, and like Élodie Yung in 2009's 'Banlieue 13 - Ultimatum,' Liebenberg pops out with invigorating fervor. That's a high compliment for an actress who isn't especially visible on a global stage.

All this is to say nothing of some cheeky, delightful use of popular songs on the soundtrack, nor Tyler Bates' original score which exercises both rock sensibilities and more straightforward dramatic themes. From the harsh cold open that nevertheless manages to carry some meaningful emotional weight, through every blast of violence including a hyper-charged climax, to a wry, satisfying ending, this manages to boast more variety and heartier entertainment than I'd have supposed from the premise, or from what I read of it beforehand. Again, it bears repeating that Marshall wears his influences on his sleeves, but it's all in pursuit of a raucous good time. This is well made in most every regard, and it definitely delivers on that good time; what more can one ask for? Personal preferences will vary and this won't appeal to all comers, nor carry equal favor for all comers. I just know that I sat hoping to enjoy myself, and at length, I very much have - just what I needed, and more than I would have expected. One should be fully aware of the level of carnage on hand, to say nothing of the ugly themes and ideas in the writing, but so long as these are no obstacle, 'Doomsday' really is a minor gem that fits neatly alongside the filmmaker's early works, and I'm happy to give it my high and enthusiastic recommendation!

As someone who grew up well into the era of sound films but who loves the silent era, I'm not sure that the brief period of "partial sound" and "synchronized sound" at the tail end of the 1920s is anything to be recalled fondly. The canned cheers and laughter, meager sound effects and imitated dialogue, and occasional weakly delivered single verbal lines are so tinny and artificial that I'm reminded of Monty Python; see 'The Holy Grail' with its animated sequence of "And there was much rejoicing," or the surrealist works of Czech wiz Jan Svankmajer. I must suppose that these wowed contemporary audiences - and I also must suppose that upon witnessing full sound cinema just a few years later they felt just as put out then as I do now. Adding to this picture's troubles is the antiquated racist dialogue that Jack Jarmuth wrote in his intertitles for a couple of supporting black characters - typical of the time, yes, but that doesn't make it any better - and the insincerity with which too much of this is written, above all in making many characters decidedly cartoonish. Frankly, 'The first auto' doesn't make a very good impression from the outset.

Maybe these issues wouldn't come off as being so severe if the substance were stronger, but in a flick partially intended for humor, too much of the intended comedy is cheap and simple-minded in the first place, and the overblown ancestral "laugh track" and ham-handed acting and direction only make the incidence worse. There is cleverness here, too, certainly, but far more sparingly. There is some earnestness, but only as applies to equine enthusiast Hank Armstrong - who to my chagrin is depicted here as the old fuddledud who can't handle "progress." Meanwhile, for a movie made at a time when the automobile industry was still developing and the combustion engine being refined, I'm sure the notions on hand were quaint and timely for viewers in 1927. However, as a piece that makes light of the advent of the "horseless carriage" at the end of the nineteenth century, I don't think this has aged well.

If the humor were sharper it would have allowed the film to skirt the edges of thorny subject matter, and earn laughs like Buster Keaton or Harold Lloyd did with some similar material, as the script fleetingly references topics like auto safety (for drivers, passengers, and bystanders alike), pollution of every variety, manufacturing and labor, the obsolescence of other trades and businesses, the loss of human connection and empathy as we "get behind the wheel," the unthinking embrace of new technologies, and more. Almost one hundred years later, the tangled weave of social, political, economic, environmental, and technological considerations that sprawled out from the moment in time being portrayed, and which furthermore can be discussed in association with too many other technological developments, makes the attitudes conveyed here come off as pure naïveté. We're supposed to see Hank as a stick in the mud, and a man forgetting himself in his obstinacy, but from the perspective of 2025, faults and all, he's actually the lone voice of reason and lasting wisdom as those around him speed heedlessly toward an unsustainable future, losing fragments of their own humanity in the process.

There are suitable ideas here for a narrative, ideas that have been employed with other central conceits: a rift between father and son, regrets of the "old-fashioned" father, the "forward-thinking" optimism of the son, the love interest, the rival for the love interest's affections, and more, all amidst changes in society. I think if the material were exercised to more straightforward dramatic ends the end result would have been distinctly stronger, even if it still failed to hold up in retrospect. As it stands, the sobriety that characterizes much of Darryl F. Zanuck's story is rendered with far too much would-be levity in the hands of screenwriter Anthony Coldeway, and even the synchronized music of Herman S. Heller is generally light and peppy in a manner that works against even the most serious beats. As far as I'm concerned, 'The first auto' feels like a confused mishmash of tonal disparity and uncertainty; ill-considered cinematic novelty; some discrete writing weaknesses; and, decades later, the childish credulity of assuming "new" is always better," as in "oh, you dear spring chickens, you thought this was promising?" - all accentuated, in my mind, by how father Hank gets treated by the feature, including in a flimsy denouement.

Maybe I'm being too harsh. Maybe I'm looking at this too much with the eyes of a twenty-first century person with all the cynicism of knowing what technology, divorced from moderation and consideration for the long view, has done to the world. All I know is that I sat to watch this with the anticipation of a silent devotee, and I step away feeling unimpressed if not also a tad frustrated. Broadly speaking we can say that this is made according to the standards of the late 20s, but that only gets us so far, and I'm not so sure that I'm pleased with the choices made in the writing, or the acting, or in Roy Del Ruth's direction. Take into account all the other wrong buttons that 'The first auto' presses, and in all honesty I come away from this fairly lighthearted title feeling even more depressed than I already am about the state of the world. I don't think that's what this was meant to do, but here we are. I'm glad for those who get more out of this than I do, and those who are able more than I am to look past one's presuppositions to more closely appreciate the picture just as it is. For my part, bitter skepticism dominates my view of 'The first auto,' and save for the nominal place that it has in the history of the medium and which its thoughts portend in the wider scope of culture, I don't think it's a piece worth revisiting. I maintain that some of the greatest works ever produced in cinema hail from its earliest years, sometimes despite old technology and old sensibilities of film-making and storytelling, and despite outdated values. On the other hand, elsewhere, sometimes the latter considerations supersede and distract from a film's lasting worth - and I think this is one of those times.