thisseatofmars

I love video games. I love learning how to interact with the little worlds people have conjured up and crafted with love and computer magic. I open with that statement because people were offended when Roger Ebert said that video games aren't art. Honestly, I'm still not sure if video games are art or not, but Death Stranding is a game that *tries* to be art, but trips, constantly, much like Norman Reedus's character in Death Stranding. The term "video games" has the term "games" in it; naturally, they're meant to be fun. Death Stranding is not fun. In trying to be grand, the minute-to-minute gameplay is dry and dull as bleached bones. Death Stranding is annoying for many reasons, but perhaps chiefly is how it does not respect your time.

Hideo Kojima garnered a lot of praise for his work on the Metal Gear series, as well as a lot of sympathy for his falling out with Konami, publisher of MGS. I remember reading about the drama when it was transpiring and it looks like a large part of the friction between Kojima and Konami was Konami refusing to indulge Hideo Kojima. Kojima refers to himself as "God" in games like MGS:PW; his opinion of himself is annoyingly, terribly, and of course falsely high. Here's the rub, though: teams and teams of people assembled the Metal Gear Solid games. People who left Konami have made statements like Kojima is "not actually a writer." Think of it like Matt Groening and The Simpsons: Groening is often attributed to 100% of the success of the show, but he's only the creator. Many of the actual great episodes were written by scores of people like John Swartzwelder, and teams of people fleshed out and developed the cast of the show. Groening's direct involvement is thin.

Death Stranding is boring, terribly so. I've seen YT comments describe this game as "Fetch Quest: The Game," and I'm inclined to agree. Death Stranding layers systems on top of other systems, but the game never becomes fun: it becomes a gigantic list of menus. Micromanagement doesn't describe it, it's nano-management (nano being the prefix smaller than micro: if you didn't know that, huh, taught you something new today.)

An attempt to mix up the dull grind of making deliveries and navigating endless seas of lists with tiny white boxy font are encounters with "beached things," or BT's, as they're abbreviated. Now, ostensibly, these sound great on paper. Tense stealth sections where you must navigate a safe path between spooky ghosts. Even the name, "beached things," sounds cool. But after the second time, every encounter with the BT's becomes a chore. The BT's aren't cool or interesting looking; they're just black shapes hanging in the air, and, if one of them grabs you, you lose a lot of your cargo, are whirled about the map, to lazily outrun a slow-moving tar creature. It. Is. A. Grind.

Not only that, but the baby crying through the darn controller adds to the tedium. Human beings are programmed to react to the sound of a baby crying. It's part of our survival mechanism: babies crying pierces us worse than any alarm. So, while you're busy trying to deal with the BS systems that Kojima should have left on the cutting room floor, you also have to endure the sound of a baby shrieking through your controller's very loud, very gratingly poor speaker. Who thought this was a good idea?

Much of the plot is not dumb, not stupid, but *ridiculous.* For example, there are factions of men that live out in the wilderness called MULEs who will attack Norman Reedus's character for an opportunity to steal the cargo Reedus is trying to deliver. Why? Just to deliver themselves for, and get this: the rush of making the delivery. Yes, really. This raises so many questions. If it's the end of the world and porters are in high demand, wouldn't it be better for the MULEs to live close to cities, where they'd be venerated like Reedus's character instead of living alone out in the middle of nowhere? Would you really risk life and limb just to steal a parcel to make a delivery, which was already en route to being delivered? Would you really isolate yourself from the remains of civilization to live the life of an outlaw, but instead of being an outlaw (stealing, killing, forming a roving gang) you stole packages from lone travellers just to deliver the packages yourself? (Do you see now why I describe Kojima as self-indulgent? I don't know what to make of Konami, but Kojima really comes off as the type that needs a firm hand.)

Here's some criticisms I would expect could be leveled at this review:

"You have to give it time. It'll get good later." But, as a video game, shouldn't it be fun immediately?

"Shame on you for wanting immediacy so much. You're as self-indulgent as Kojima." Really? It's a video game: shouldn't I feel entertained if I'm paying (a lot of my hard-earned money) for entertainment? Plus, of course I'm willing to invest some time for it to "get good," but it's been hours: why can't I get the image of Hideo Kojima's troll face out of my head?

You know, *real* video games like Luigi's Mansion 3 are out, and Pokemon S&S are coming out next week...

The 2014 version of Godzilla was not great, but this 2019 take, Godzilla: King of the Monsters, is superb. Many wonderful moments, with some strokes of genius.

I know what you're thinking. "Genius" may be an overused and often incorrectly used term, like "epic," but I can't think of a better way to describe how the filmmakers gave the three different heads of King Ghidorah their own unique personalities. Ghidorah is the big scary kaiju of the movie, and Godzilla's eternal rival, but he's not just a simple, mindless hydra: the middle head is dominant, the right head is no-nonsense and follows orders, and the left head is something of a ditz, who needs to be put in place. The different personalities is a wonderful quality to give to Ghidorah because it complements his personality and his design. (And, it also makes me think of the three-headed giant from Monty Python's Holy Grail.) The presentation of the monsters is also done with wonderful care, and many sequences, like Rodan waking, and Godzilla arriving with the military (and the girl smiling when seeing him), were excellent.

The 2014 Godzilla movie suffered because the movie focused on a bland human and his bland family instead of, you know: the titanic beasts walking the Earth. This 2019 film is far superior because the humans add to the experience rather than get in the way. The cast is generally very good and Charles Dance is here, who is a supreme actor, and his post-credits scene is perfectly delivered.

There is one scene that I especially loved: when the humans lure Rodan towards King Ghidorah, and the screen turns black, only for it to flash white, showing Ghidorah in all his serpentine glory, and white light flashing on the Chinese scientist's shocked face. I loved that moment. When I think of this film in the future that moment will be the first of the first images that come to mind. It's moments like these that we go to the movies, and stay with you long after.

That said, the humans still sort of get in the way of the action. It's wonderful seeing the monsters; everything, in fact, about the monsters: seeing them appear, seeing their eyes, seeing them fight- even watching them move around is a treat: but the humans get in the way at times, which can annoy. In the climactic battle at the end, the camera is focused on the family more often that I liked, but the battles are all still engrossing and satisfying. Godzilla going nuclear and totalling Ghidorah was great, and he is ushered in via a very tough-cool line, delivered by a human: "Long live the king."

There's also a scene that irked me: a statue of a soldier falling down. It was very quick, but unpleasant all the same, given the tension around statues of soldiers and historical figures in cities now. However, this film does a good job giving credit to soldiers. The soldiers in this film are competent, hardworking, and brave, and also human: they crack jokes, and one even blesses himself. Also, there's a nice scene between Ken Watanabe, a Japanese actor, and Ziyi Zhang, a Chinese actress, where their characters hug in an emotional and meaningful way. Given the history between their two countries, this moment of peace was especially nice.

I love, love, love Godzilla and the whole genre of kaiju movies. I still consider Pacific Rim the absolute finest kaiju film ever made, but Godzilla: King of the Monsters comes second. It's nice to leave the cinema with a smile on my face: I guess not everyone in Hollywood is a twisted pervert with a political agenda (we can only hope). I'm grateful I live in a time where kaiju movies are so well done. "Let others praise ancient times; I am glad I was born in these."

The opening of Shazam! is excellent. The moody snowfall, the transportation of the young Sivana to the magic cave, and the demons communicating to him via the Magic 8-Ball was all excellent. However, the rest of Shazam! gets worse as it goes on. This is due in part mostly by Zachary Levi's hammy performance, lame jokes, and the film not doing as much as it could with the concept.

The costume for Shazam! is excellent. The saturated red and frilly white cape, plus greased-back Elvis-style pompadour really compliments the 1930's origins of the character. You'd think with this kind of tribute to the source material, Shazam! would go some way in revitalizing or at least reinterpreting the superhero genre, like how Aquaman and Venom did: Aquaman was a grand fantasy epic and Venom was a buddy-cop and monster movie. Shazam! meanwhile is a potato that's been boiled for too long. Apart from the moody opening, the overall tone feels displaced. How is it that this film has so little charisma? How is it that adult Billy Batson acts less maturely than young Billy Batson? Zachary Levi's, or perhaps, rather, Hollywood's interpretation of how kids act is extremely over-excited and enthusiastic about everything, and watching Levi bumble around making lame jokes is hard to watch.

Ah, yes: the "jokes." They act as your typical Hollywood formula for humour: say the most obvious observation as loudly as possible, minimizing wit whenever you can. A lot of the "humour" is meant to stem from Batson's excitement over getting his superheroes, but after a while (and this drags out) the charm of the excitement wears off. There's only so many times you can hear variations of, "Dude, I can fly!" or "Dude, I can run fast!" ("Yeahdudeyoucantotallyrunfast") before you start massaging your temples. Adult Batson sees an attractive women leaving a convenience store and makes an obvious pass, "Hey, I'm, like, an adult" (or something). Yes, Batson, you sure are: an adult that acts more immature than the child actor playing the child version of your character. Your fish-eyes and moley neck aren't creepy at all.

Mark Strong is a good actor but the part of Sivana is as dry and straight as can be. He's the villain, deriving his powers from seven demons that all look alike, have simple designs (green bumpy skin and frowny faces) and stand around doing/saying nothing for 99% of the movie. If they're based on the Seven Deadly Sins, why not jazz up their appearances? Give them unique personalities and voices to match? (Wouldn't it be cool to cast someone like, I don't know, John Cleese, as Avarice? And for kicks, Jordan Peele as Wrath? It'd fit him, as his films, like Get Out, are so gross and hate-filled.)

With the excellent red costume, you'd think the film would go some way in establishing its own character or tone, but they really don't push the concept. Really, if it was me, I would've explored the theme of magic in the movie. Superman gets his powers from science (pseudo-science, of course; Earth's red sun), Batman from tech and willpower; Shazam's power comes from magic. There's a scene late in the movie where the players come to an enchanted cave where a series of doors lead to a number of different worlds, one containing alligator men wearing tuxes. Why couldn't have more of the movie had moments like these? Guardians of the Galaxy is fun for the variety of alien life and locations: think what fun you could have with magic. Instead, Shazam!'s locations are malls, convenience stores, a fair, streets, and a school, where they take the opportunity to humiliate a security guard. This humiliation was inappropriate and insensitive, given the gun violence in America (and in schools, unfortunately). Also, I really, really didn't like the scene where a national monument of Philadelphia was destroyed; the statue getting decapitated. Honour your country, Hollywood. Honour your history.

The opening of Shazam! is excellent. The moody snowfall, the transportation of the young Sivana to the magic cave, and the demons communicating to him via the Magic 8-Ball was all excellent. However, the rest of Shazam! gets worse as it goes on. This is due in part mostly by Zachary Levi's hammy performance, lame jokes, and the film not doing as much as it could with the concept.

The costume for Shazam! is excellent. The saturated red and frilly white cape, plus greased-back Elvis-style pompadour really compliments the 1930's origins of the character. You'd think with this kind of tribute to the source material, Shazam! would go some way in revitalizing or at least reinterpreting the superhero genre, like how Aquaman and Venom did: Aquaman was a grand fantasy epic and Venom was a buddy-cop and monster movie. Shazam! meanwhile is a potato that's been boiled for too long. Apart from the moody opening, the overall tone feels displaced. How is it that this film has so little charisma? How is it that adult Billy Batson acts less maturely than young Billy Batson? Zachary Levi's, or perhaps, rather, Hollywood's interpretation of how kids act is extremely over-excited and enthusiastic about everything, and watching Levi bumble around making lame jokes is hard to watch.

Ah, yes: the "jokes." They act as your typical Hollywood formula for humour: say the most obvious observation as loudly as possible, minimizing wit whenever you can. A lot of the "humour" is meant to stem from Batson's excitement over getting his superheroes, but after a while (and this drags out) the charm of the excitement wears off. There's only so many times you can hear variations of, "Dude, I can fly!" or "Dude, I can run fast!" ("Yeahdudeyoucantotallyrunfast") before you start massaging your temples. Adult Batson sees an attractive women leaving a convenience store and makes an obvious pass, "Hey, I'm, like, an adult" (or something). Yes, Batson, you sure are: an adult that acts more immature than the child actor playing the child version of your character. Your fish-eyes and moley neck aren't creepy at all.

Mark Strong is a good actor but the part of Sivana is as dry and straight as can be. He's the villain, deriving his powers from seven demons that all look alike, have simple designs (green bumpy skin and frowny faces) and stand around doing/saying nothing for 99% of the movie. If they're based on the Seven Deadly Sins, why not jazz up their appearances? Give them unique personalities and voices to match? (Wouldn't it be cool to cast someone like, I don't know, John Cleese, as Avarice? And for kicks, Jordan Peele as Wrath? It'd fit him, as his films, like Get Out, are so gross and hate-filled.)

With the excellent red costume, you'd think the film would go some way in establishing its own character or tone, but they really don't push the concept. Really, if it was me, I would've explored the theme of magic in the movie. Superman gets his powers from science (pseudo-science, of course; Earth's red sun), Batman from tech and willpower; Shazam's power comes from magic. There's a scene late in the movie where the players come to an enchanted cave where a series of doors lead to a number of different worlds, one containing alligator men wearing tuxes. Why couldn't have more of the movie had moments like these? Guardians of the Galaxy is fun for the variety of alien life and locations: think what fun you could have with magic. Instead, Shazam!'s locations are malls, convenience stores, a fair, streets, and a school, where they take the opportunity to humiliate a security guard. This humiliation was inappropriate and insensitive, given the gun violence in America (and in schools, unfortunately). Also, I really, really didn't like the scene where a national monument of Philadelphia was destroyed; the statue getting decapitated. Honour your country, Hollywood. Honour your history.

The original Hellboy movies are good, but not del Toro's best. His best is Pacific Rim, a superb, sublime work of robot and monster art, while his worst is Shape of Water. In ranking del Toro's movies, Hellboy is something like 3rd best, maybe after The Devil's Backbone (Pan's Labyrinth is overrated, sorry). I bring this up because it's unfair to scream and bawl that del Toro didn't direct this new Hellboy movie. From what I'm seeing online, people are shaming this new director, Neil Marshall, for having the *audacity* to even *think* about adapting Hellboy. And, before seeing the film, I have to confess that I was in sort of in agreement. I've seen one other movie by Marshall and wasn't impressed by it. The corny trailers and David Harbour bellowing at the Emmy's (or whatever award show that was) didn't do anything to help either. However, I saw the movie today after work and I'm happy to say that this new Hellboy movie is a lot of fun.

The original Hellboy movies changed too many elements for my liking. Making Hellboy a government conspiracy and Liz a love interest felt uninspired. This new Hellboy movie takes more after the comics, in that the world knows who he is and don't freak out when they see him walking around. What was never in the comics, however, was the level of profanity that's in this movie. I guess they were really pushing for the R rating? I don't understand it. The Hellboy comics quote Shakespeare, Dickens, Blake, and Melville, some huge heroes of my heart. This movie meanwhile swore so much I thought grandma had come back to life and had had a hand in writing the screenplay.

But I can't complain. Seeing Hellboy onscreen again is a treat: moving, fighting, shooting; the character looks fantastic, except for some moments where the horns move a little too much on his head and the makeup looks smudgy (but these are rare moments). I liked the humour, like Hellboy's hairy back, and action too. I've read a few criticisms about the level of gore in this movie, but I think the gore adds, strangely. I'm no gore hound, but the gore in this movie "good gore," the kind you hear in campfire stories. ("Bad gore" is gross, like the torture scenes in Hostel, or all of Get Out.) It's like the filmmakers were trying to adapt the Hellboy comics but also pulp horror films, like the Hammer series, and other comics too, like Tales from the Crypt and Creepshow.

Ian McShane is a great actor, a truly charismatic dude, and Milla Jonovich is as elegant and charming as ever. David Harbour is not especially striking in any capacity, but he does Hellboy justice, delivering the dry one-liners and annoyance of having to save the world well. The movie clips along and delivers information at a rapid-fire pace, so there's never a dull moment. Really, this isn't a bad movie at all. In fact, I even hope we get sequels. Maybe even a trilogy this time around, instead of a duology.

It's weird, people jumping on the hate bandwagon, with this movie. It makes me think of Venom, from last year. Movie critics (unhappy people with pretentious clothing and appearances) hated Venom but moviegoers enjoyed it, myself included. Hellboy's getting the same kind of unwarranted treatment, but it's actually a lot of fun. Go see it! You'll have a "heck" of a time. (Sorry, it was low-hanging fruit.)

This is a gag and groan-filled comedy similar in style to the Naked Gun movies. One-liners, sight gags, and rapid-fire humour make me miss movies like these; like Jane Austen's Mafia!, Baseketball, Airplane!, and even the first Scary Movie (not the sequels to Scary Movie, which are all horrible). Some of the gags don't quite work however, and you have to be in the right kind of mood, obviously (don't ask your girlfriend to watch this with you) but the movie is charming nonetheless. I wish there were more movies like this!

Constantine is a hard-rocking, chain-smoking dude who drinks a lot and has a lot of random sex. Constantine's like a less psychopathic James Bond, British accent included, except that he fights the occult. That's why adapting Constantine is challenging; it's hard to connote the grit of the Constantine universe, even in comic book form. This cartoon does not adapt Constantine well, and its attempts at grit and horror are equal parts painful and laughable.

The movie feels like it written by people who have read maybe two Constantine comics and instead watch a lot of Oprah (or something). There is nothing gripping about the scenes where Constantine has to witness the tortures of Hell (whip stock sound effect) has sex with a spirit (not as cool as it sounds) or his repeated flashbacks to that tragic night long ago (lady scream stock sound effect, which is also very, very annoying).

The animation is stiff and the characters, especially the demons, look stupid. Constantine's design would work as, I don't know, an action figure maybe, but he is not expressive. Always the eyebrows drawn together in a tough-looking scowl. But guys, tough is boring.

The way the characters talk to one another is stiff as well. Early on, Constantine summons "Nightmare Nurse," someone Constantine used to work with, and within the first 30 seconds she's talking about how Constantine is not great in bed. (This paragraph is going to make me tick the spoiler box for this review. Jeez.) I guess they're trying to show how mundane fighting the occult has become for them, but that could be communicated a lot more subtly, like Hellboy cracking jokes in the presence of elder gods. Even in a realistic setting, if you ran into an old flame, would she bring up the sex you used to have? Does *anyone* talk like that? Bringing up sexual performance in the first 30 seconds? After years of silence? There's that hamfisted attempt at grit, yet again. Constantine: a swing and a miss.

Is it completely horrible? No, but it's certainly a waste of time. I was busy with something in my home and put on this movie as background noise, but despite my productivity I still feel guilty, like I still wasted my time and energy with this movie.

Felidae a queer sort of movie. It demands your attention while watching and sticks with you afterwards, like a bloodstain. Felidae is animated mystery with gore, and it does indeed live up to its reputation for being disturbing, but not for its violence. You're disturbed for feeling shame. You're reminded of the suffering we put others through. You are not disturbed for gore, you are disturbed by disappointment. Hope for the progress of man is dashed away. It is a sobering feeling.

The film also conjures philosophical questions. Was the villain a victim with a brilliant mind but a weak personality, or were his motivations justified? If one is tortured, how *could* he not succumb to hatred? Is the Christlike strength to resist the revenge wheel of bitterness and hate after being so terribly wronged a choice (to me, a matter of Herculean will) or just a matter of personality? If it had been the hero, a character of similar brilliance to the villain, who'd undergone the torture, would he too have turned out the same?

The characters are of course fictional but laboratory animal testing is not. The horror of the film is not the characters or the plot, it's reminding the viewer of the actual pain inflicted in the world: right now.

Nothing was cooler than Transformers when I was a kid. I still love robots, in fact, but in spite of this, I'm not one for nostalgia. If a movie or product is bad I will not let sentimentality colour my perception, which seems rare to me nowadays, as people tend to defend their interests at the fanatical level. Don't believe me? Say that a Marvel or Star Wars movie *could* have been better (or that you're not a big fan of the series in general) online and watch as an alarming (and hilarious) level of hostility comes your way. Anyway, it's with a heavy heart that I say that I went into Bumblebee really wanting to really like it, but it's only above average... but you know, average still isn't bad.

What sets this Transformers movie apart from the others is the emphasis on story and characters. The other movies were three-hour long explosion fests. Bumblebee instead is slower-paced, taking its time to tell a story about a grieving, outcast girl connecting with a lost creature from another world. The relationship between the two works, and it's sweet: the relationship is not like a friendship between two people but more like one between a person and a cat. Bumblebee can't speak, he huddles into a corner when afraid, and he leans into the girl's hands, which is cute. At this point in the movie, Bumblebee has lost his memory, so neither he nor the girl realize what a powerful soldier he is. We get a taste of this awesome potential when she is threatened late in the movie and he switches into kill mode, with red flashing eyes. It made me think of the "You are not a gun" scene from The Iron Giant: but the scene does not carry the gravitas or spectacle that it could have.

What's missing is the spectacle of the other Transformer movies. I forget which Transformer movie it is now, but there was one film that featured the Constructicon robots merging together to form a titanic Deception called Devastator. That knocked my socks off when I saw it, years ago, in theatres: no matter how bored or annoying you find the other Transformer movies, Devastator's transformation into a metal titan was impressive. Bumblebee unfortunately features nothing really like that in this film. The closest we get to that level of spectacle are the scenes of Cybertron, with the war raging, but those are fleeting and over too soon.

However these Cyberton scenes give us some fantastic the cameos. It was a treat seeing Soundwave, Shockwave, Starscream, and Thundercracker on the big screen, in their proper, G1 forms: and Soundwave spoke in his vocoder voice: joy, joy, joy (I really am not one for nostalgia, honest, but hearing Soundwave speak in his real voice made me smile). I wish we could have seen more of the G1 Transformers on screen.

The CGI is as cool as always; watching the Transformers transform is always a delight; but during climactic fights that characters move / animate so quickly it's hard to keep up with what's happening. And, the entire movie has kind of a slow build. There's a whole subplot featuring some "mean girls" that could have been cut out entirely, helping with the pacing of the film.

But whatever. This is still the best live-action Transformer movie to date. It's not average, it's *above* average, and I hope we see future Transformer movies made in the same vein. More G1 robots, please, more Soundwave and his cool voice, more humans in wonder, please, please, please. Filmmakers of Allspark Entertainment, here is a homework assignment for you: watch and re-watch Pacific Rim for that sense of wonder.

Wes Anderson's best work seems behind him. I loved The Royal Tenenbaums and Fantastic Mr. Fox, an animated movie very similar in style to Isle of Dogs. Anderson's films however have taken a downturn, like The Grand Budapest Hotel, which was disappointing farce. "Dogs" is no less disappointing.

I think the problem Anderson's last few movies have is that the plot is too thin for the run time. "Hotel" was 100 minutes but felt like it should have been 80. Isle of Dogs is 97 minutes, but it takes a long, long, long time for it to get going. Wes Anderson sacrifices "artsy shots" and style for storytelling; that is, plot and pacing. The numerous pull away and flat establishing shots drag the movie down so much watching "Dogs" is a chore. "Dogs" also features a tedious amount of people speaking, at length, in Japanese, and then having a character translate it for us. Is it meant to be a joke? It's quirky, sure, but isn't it also, I don't know... tedious? Since when is quirkiness a joke? Since when is listening to people speaking Japanese a joke?

The whimsical "quirk factor" of this movie is compounded by how the (English speaking) characters all talk; as if they're all trying to do a Jeff Goldblum impression (which is funny as he is also in this movie). But people don't talk like this, not unless it's late at night and you have to talk to your spouse about something bothering you but you don't want to wake the kids.

I can't shoot the movie down completely, however: this style of animation is charming and filled with character, but it's not enough to save the movie. Fantastic Mr. Fox had the same kind of animation but "Fox" also had stronger storytelling, acting, and humour. Animation alone isn't enough to save a movie.

When you hear "comic book movie" you probably think of Disney/Marvel (D/M) because of all of the D/M movies out there. Let's face it though, D/M have definitely developed a formula to making their movies, which isn't good, because movie formulas make movies samey. It is a successful formula, to be sure: D/M have made, what, 20 movies? But this kind of formulaic approach will kill the comic book movie. Perhaps part of the success of 2018's "Venom" is how it broke from the mould by being its own weird and wonderful entity. "Aquaman" goes further still: Aquaman does not just break this mould, it *shatters* it. Aquaman is an excellent film, one of the best fantasy films I've seen, and highly worth your time. It is not formulaic, it is not a filler movie until the next crossover: it actually helps reinvigorate the term "comic book movie" and succeeds on nearly every level.

The plot is classic fantasy: there is a rightful heir to the throne, an evil dictator, a princess, and magic, all set through the lens of the sea. Instead of swords and sorcery you have tridents and Atlantean technology. It is familiar but different, thanks to the underwater aesthetic and how the movie treats its lore. It is not constantly patronizing us with stupid jokes or nods that break immersion like Marvel and Deadpool movies, nor does it take itself too seriously like the Dark Knight movies. Perhaps that should be the distinction between DC and Marvel: DC adheres to its lore more closely, and in doing so benefits from greater immersion.

The leads, Aquaman and Mera, have chemistry together but neither are fantastic actors. But they are earnest and look their parts, and there is so much wonderful content to this movie that when they fumble a line or a moment it is of little consequence. The movie is also quite long, but that is a nitpick: you can't hurry epic fantasy.

It is fitting that the characters call Aquaman "King Arthur" at the end of the movie. Aquaman is in the same class of Excalibur, Lord of the Rings, Conan, and Highlander.

I Sell the Dead plays up its humour much too much. The sole, recurring, dragged out joke is how we, the audience, are meant to be impressed or put off by the grim work of grave robbing. But it's tedious. It's like listening to someone talk about how hard their job is: constantly. A lot of the actors are good but their characters are one-dimensional grave robbing toughies.

The music exacerbates the humour. Goofy is too strong a word for it, but there is a hokey kind of (clarinet?) music that plays throughout the entire show that tries to communicate its humour. Yeah, okay; "Sell" is a black comedy; I get it, you make dark jokes and stuff. Your fascination with death is not profound.

The movie is also overpacked, giving it a listless feel. "I Sell the Dead" doesn't have a traditional three-act structure, but works more as an anthology. But there is too much content. All of the little anecdotes throughout the film take away from the focus of the overall plot. Anecdotes like these work much better in print. And to reiterate, the humour is not appreciated. There's one "humorous" anecdote of a boy who keeps having his pets killed by his father, until the boy beats his father to the punch and kills his pets before the father can. That reads pretty twisted, but the movie spoils it with cheese: when the boy finally kills the pet, he has red paint on his face (he kills it by biting it, teehee) and breaks immersion by looking at us and smiling. It's over the top but not in a fun way. I don't know. If I was much, much younger (ten years old?) maybe I would've thought it was cool.

Speaking of immersion-breaking, the movie's obviously low budget makes everything look cheap. There's a brown wash to every scene and a lot of sets feel empty or underdeveloped. I don't want to knock the film for not having the lavish budget of a mega-Hollywood movie, but the cheapness plus the poor humour and lack of focus makes "I Sell" a tedious bore.

That said, I know this is the debut work of the director, and I have to admit this is an ambitious project. I'd like to see more of his work in the future.

Exploitation movies can be excellent, like Poultrygeist or the Yeti: A Love Story sequel. The Unquenchable Thirst for Beau Nerjoose has the same spirit as these movies but it's just not as sharp. To be good, exploitation movies have to strike a balance between gross-out humour and wit. Poultrygeist was dirty as hell but it lampooned political correctness, liberal college culture, and taboo subjects like religion (all religions, not just Christianity, the safe-to-attack religion). "Thirst" doesn't have this same lampooning wit. It instead veers more towards the dick and fart jokes and suffers for it.

In the end "Thirst" is a simple stream of poop, sex, and boob jokes that comes off as empty-headed and even tedious at times. It'd be fine for potheads and stoners, very young teenage boys, and guys like Michael Rotondo, but if you don't fall into those categories you won't care much for this film. I laughed rarely and kept waiting for the movie to get good.

That said, I don't want to condemn "Thirst" completely. There is a lot of talent on display; the movie looks good and the actors play their parts well. "Thirst" is also a musical, and most of the songs are surprisingly catchy. The songs are even better in fact than the songs in Poultrygeist, but I'm not a big fan of musicals anyway, and I always found that the songs in Poultrygeist were the worst thing about that movie. "Thirst's" songs are brief and don't get in the way of the movie (too much).

"Venom" is the best superhero movie I've seen in a long time, partly because it turns the superhero formula on its head. While good, I find The Dark Knight movies usually too intense and serious, while most Marvel movies are too tongue-in-cheek (like constant little jokes Marvel movies inject to mollify a scene's tension). It's interesting then that this film, about a character who looks like a demon from Hell, manages to strike that perfect balance between being dark, intense, and light humour.

And make no mistake, Venom is a real monster. He eats the brains of his foes and his voice could make the Predator wet himself. But it's not all dark and intense: Venom is *likeable.* He doesn't make quips; he's earnest. If Venom isn't telling the hero to eat the brains of villains he is egging the hero on to get back with his ex-girlfriend. That is *genius,* and this interest that Venom has in people leads to some fantastic moments in the movie. There's a scene where Venom convinces the hero to apologize to the ex, and the hero does so, ending resentment between the two. When this happens Venom says, completely unironically, "Aw. That's nice."

I love Venom, the character, and watching him interact with the people around him is just as entertaining as the insane fight scenes where he is decimating whole teams of armoured, armed men. Venom is charismatic and fascinating; I'd love to see more of him interacting with Eddie Brock (the film's protagonist character) and seeing the conversations they'd have. I have to commend the filmmakers on Venom's design: he is huge and brutal and he animates beautifully, from the saliva dripping from his lizard tongue to his creepy, bulbous eyes. Venom should always have that insane, rictus grin on his face; I never like seeing Venom in the comics without it. Having Venom wearing the grin throughout the movie was definitely the right way to go.

Tom Hardy is a great actor and his talent delivers the human element of the movie. He's played Bane in Batman and Max in Mad Max; he demonstrates range by playing humorous scenes and the fish out of water character of Eddie Brock, who is utterly bewildered by becoming the host to Venom. Michelle Williams is great as Brock's ex; she is spunky and tough and Hardy and Williams work well together. But Venom steals the show. Brock and Venom have more chemistry than Brock and the love interest.

The opening of the film is somewhat slow, but they have a lot to set up. The post-credits scene features Brock meeting Cletus Cassidy, and Woody Harrelson is the most perfect choice to play the role, but the wig they gave Harrelson was ridiculous. But apart from that, I loved "Venom," and I can't wait to see more. Hopefully it won't be too long before we get a sequel.

"Venom" is the best superhero movie I've seen in a long time, partly because it turns the superhero formula on its head. While good, I find The Dark Knight movies usually too intense and serious, while most Marvel movies are too tongue-in-cheek (like constant little jokes Marvel movies inject to mollify a scene's tension). It's interesting then that this film, about a character who looks like a demon from Hell, manages to strike that perfect balance between being dark, intense, and light humour.

And make no mistake, Venom is a real monster. He eats the brains of his foes and his voice could make the Predator wet himself. But it's not all dark and intense: Venom is *likeable.* He doesn't make quips; he's earnest. If Venom isn't telling the hero to eat the brains of villains he is egging the hero on to get back with his ex-girlfriend. That is *genius,* and this interest that Venom has in people leads to some fantastic moments in the movie. There's a scene where Venom convinces the hero to apologize to the ex, and the hero does so, ending resentment between the two. When this happens Venom says, completely unironically, "Aw. That's nice."

I love Venom, the character, and watching him interact with the people around him is just as entertaining as the insane fight scenes where he is decimating whole teams of armoured, armed men. Venom is charismatic and fascinating; I'd love to see more of him interacting with Eddie Brock (the film's protagonist character) and seeing the conversations they'd have. I have to commend the filmmakers on Venom's design: he is huge and brutal and he animates beautifully, from the saliva dripping from his lizard tongue to his creepy, bulbous eyes. Venom should always have that insane, rictus grin on his face; I never like seeing Venom in the comics without it. Having Venom wearing the grin throughout the movie was definitely the right way to go.

Tom Hardy is a great actor and his talent delivers the human element of the movie. He's played Bane in Batman and Max in Mad Max; he demonstrates range by playing humorous scenes and the fish out of water character of Eddie Brock, who is utterly bewildered by becoming the host to Venom. Michelle Williams is great as Brock's ex; she is spunky and tough and Hardy and Williams work well together. But Venom steals the show. Brock and Venom have more chemistry than Brock and the love interest.

The opening of the film is somewhat slow, but they have a lot to set up. The post-credits scene features Brock meeting Cletus Cassidy, and Woody Harrelson is the most perfect choice to play the role, but the wig they gave Harrelson was ridiculous. But apart from that, I loved "Venom," and I can't wait to see more. Hopefully it won't be too long before we get a sequel.

Ever see Predator? It's a 1987 science fiction action horror movie about a group of soldiers who are tasked with infiltrating a jungle to hunt down a killer. But, spoilers, the killer is the one actually hunting *them.* (And, the killer is an alien: surprise!) Predator is effective for its claustrophobic, tense jungle scenes, the chemistry between all of the soldiers in the film, and for the predator itself: its striking design and mysterious nature still sparks the imagination. While watching Predator I found myself wondering about the monster: what is its home world like? Why the fascination with man? How long has its species been coming to Earth?

The Predator is a 2018 action comedy horror sequel that gets a lot right. The cast is very likeable: so much so that I dare say that the chemistry of the soldiers eclipses that of the soldiers of the original, and I'm not saying that lightly. Predator is a classic and saying that the characters work even better together in a sequel seems like sacrilege. But the soldiers here are the highlight of the movie. There's one with PTSD, one who makes jokes, one who's memorized the Bible, and one from Ireland who does a single card trick when he's introduced and that becomes his thing. Their characterizations may be thin, but they interact naturally, and their banter is usually great. I'd love to see a sequel with just those guys hunting a xenomorph, but as they all die at the end, I guess that's unlikely. (Maybe they're cloned using the predator's comedy cloning machine? Or maybe a prequel?)

The rest of the cast is pretty thin. The film's lead, and the rest of the supporting roles, are straight and flat, but I do like how the film pays tribute to soldiers. There's a conversation in the movie that draws a distinction between "killers and soldiers: killers enjoy what they do." Soldiers don't get enough recognition in society, especially veterans. It's nice to see soldiers portrayed as human, instead of screaming bald dudes in green gear.

The movie clips along nicely and a lot of the action is fast and fluid. The monsters look great but don't always animate well; there are "predator dogs" in this movie that just sort of stand around and bark despite having about a thousand bullets being pumped into them. It is also evident that a lot of content was cut from the movie. Some transitions are awkward and there are plot holes aplenty (for example, government agents storm the house of the lead's ex-wife without us knowing it, and we don't know the fate of the lead's ex-wife by the film's end, despite a predator invading the house). However, these cuts were necessary; the film is already overlong at 107 minutes (it starts great but kind of drags towards the end). I wish DVDs and director cuts were still prevalent.

The jarring transitions and dangling plot holes are distracting, but what's really distracting is the film's self-referential nature. Someone should have grabbed the filmmakers and told them to get away from the 1980's. The movie pays homage to the original to a fault. The blaring 1980's action movie-type score (brass section included) is distracting and the serif font at the beginning and end credits immediately tells the audience that the filmmakers are self-aware and obviously so. The filmmakers communicate to us repeatedly, "Yes, we're making a sequel to a classic but somewhat dated 80's action movie, but we're too cool for the 80's, so we're going to inject lots of 80's references, references to the original, and a mountain of jokes to make you feel like you, consumer, are in on the joke: the joke being that the 1980's are considered kitsch. I mean, a sequel to Predator, in 2018? Amirite?"

That's the big gripe for me. There are a couple of others: a predator walks by a destroyed police car at one point and spits in disgust, for example. Maybe I'm reading too deep here; maybe all that was meant by this was the warrior monster showing contempt for our meagre Earth defences, but I found it weird and on the nose. The police will be endlessly controversial and they've been especially so in the news in the last few years, and a lot of cops are psychopaths and power-obsessed: but the police are a necessary evil. Featuring a scene of a destroyed cruiser and a being spitting in disgust in front of it won't help society heal and won't bring us closer together.

There's more room for comedy and grand ideas in science fiction because SF is the art of the possible. Futurama is a genius show because it managed to be both hilarious and have clever SF plots. For example, the time travel episodes connected to other episodes while maintaining a SF logic. Look at the episode "Roswell that Ends Well," a (hilarious) story that developed into a larger plot where Fry is the chosen one to ward off the brain spawn. Or, the episode focusing on Fry's dog, which would not have been as touching if not for the internal SF logic keeping the plot together. And, thanks to the open nature of SF, Futurama was even able to have fantasy-focused plots, like "The Honking" and even "Bender's Game."

Straight-up fantasy isn't as strong because for it to remain fantasy it has to adhere to stricter confines. Science fiction can be post-apocalyptic, set in a space station, a military setting, or even a few years from now, like Pacific Rim. SF can even be part fantasy, like Star Wars. Fantasy by itself however is almost always set in a castle. Sure enough, the opening of Disenchanted is in a pub, then castle town, then the castle. You have fairies, ogres, elves, and demons, all standard fare for fantasy. The only new or interesting element is the king's wife, who appears to be a member of a Zora-like race from the Zelda series.

But such innovations are rare given the limitations of fantasy and Disenchantment's stubborn choice to play it safe. The show is filled with stock, boring characters. The protagonists are all the same, in that they feel like they don't "fit in." A spoiled brat princess who wants to be a warrior? Holy cheese but that is a plot as old as time. An elf who doesn't like being a happy elf? It sounds like the creators saw that crappy Will Ferrel (spelled right?) movie and just ran with that plot. The elf even remarks in episode nine, when approaching the other elves, "I smell cocoa, caramel, and conformity!" Wow, what a rebel. How about you take charge and muster up ambition instead of complaining, dude?

It is a tactical and insulting choice of using such malcontent characters who refuse to fit into society as Disenchantment's protagonists. The creators of Disenchantment are trying to pander to a demographic, the demo being misfits, losers, basement dwellers: people who have always wondered why they don't "fit in" while stubbornly refusing to change and/or better themselves. After all, who else would watch an animated sitcom about three bores who run away from responsibility to play in a fantasy world? Sounds like the comics and video game industry to me. (By the way, the creators of the show are very wealthy people: they certainly "fit in.")

Disenchantment tries to make you laugh with bouts of gore and violence, a cheap attempt to make you laugh with shock. (Huh, elves and gnomes blowing up giants. Clever, guys.) But in this day and age, such cartoon violence is ancient, old hat. The most famous episode of Rick and Morty (a tedious and overrated show) is the one where Rick turns himself into a pickle and slaughters a group of sewer rats: but really, the violent parts of that episode were the most forgettable. There's also a monologue in the pilot where a priest-type character proclaims skepticism in her belief in God, ending with the line, "If I talk with confidence, you dopes will believe anything I say." (Shots at people who believe in God. That's great, guys. Enjoy that false feeling of superiority, and that big empty hole in your heart.)

I suppose the show has some potential. The colours are beautiful, many backgrounds looking like they were done with watercolours. I also like the design of the demon Luci... but not the voice. He's well designed, almost always appearing in profile form, with a long black pointed tail and tiny cute horns: I can see the design working well in a comic strip. But the voice spoils him. He would've been stronger with a voice more like Bender's from Futurama, instead of some smarmy hipster-type dude. Bender's voice is different, and it needs to be different because he is a robot. Luci the demon sounds like someone you reach when calling customer support. It's weird too, the similarities between Luci and Bender: both are misanthropes, both smoke cigars and drink hard liquor, both say "chump" like it's meant to be funny. But Luci's black sprite design is the highlight, and most original and clever part of the show.

Is the show funny? No, not at all, it is actually very slow. You chuckle once every 25 minutes or so. If this was Groening's first effort he'd be forced out of television and into a different field (perhaps even a literal field, like landscaping or agriculture or something). It doesn't help that a lot of the season is a tease. Apart from the tired gags (rejected from Futurama?) the plot offers no closure. Elfo's lineage is a major plot point but we don't see any payoff, and after this limpness of this first season, I'm not motivated to waste any more time to see where the plot goes.

Ghost Stories has a generic title which is criminal as it's story is original. It's a horror anthology film, probably the best I've seen in a while. It hasn't topped VHS2 (for me, anyway) but Ghost Stories is still worth your time.

Original? Sure. Ghost Stories still has its share of jump scares and musical stings, but the three different stories all have their own style and switching between them keeps you on your toes. The colour blue features heavily in the first story, pulling the camera far back so the man being haunted appears trapped, and there's an excellent eye trick involving a bed and a broom; the second story is somewhat comedic featuring the colour red and many close ups of a nervous young man trapped in the woods, and the third story is drenched in green and has (spoilers) the best jump scare I've seen in a while. The movie ends with a surprise I won't spoil here, but it ties the film together in a radical way. I'm saying radical rather than profound; the story isn't bookended so much as it is layered (sorry, I know this is vague language, but you know, spoilers). Ghost Stories isn't perfect, of course. There are some dangling plot threads, like the protagonist's father in the home, the court case at the beginning of the movie involving the psychic, and I'd love to know what happened to the rest of the protagonist's family, namely the sister.

Ghost Stories is original but not wildly so; as all movies invariably age and become dated, Ghost Stories' title won't do the film any favours in fighting off the onslaught of time. However, the film delivers a message I like: inaction is just as deadly as action. If you disengage with the world, allow weaknesses like fear to stop you from acting, and/or misuse your time, you can't claim innocence. This film shows that there is a place in Hell for inaction.

Ghost Stories has a generic title which is criminal as it's story is original. It's a horror anthology film, probably the best I've seen in a while. It hasn't topped VHS2 (for me, anyway) but Ghost Stories is still worth your time.

Original? Sure. Ghost Stories still has its share of jump scares and musical stings, but the three different stories all have their own style and switching between them keeps you on your toes. The colour blue features heavily in the first story, pulling the camera far back so the man being haunted appears trapped, and there's an excellent eye trick involving a bed and a broom; the second story is somewhat comedic featuring the colour red and many close ups of a nervous young man trapped in the woods, and the third story is drenched in green and has (spoilers) the best jump scare I've seen in a while. The movie ends with a surprise I won't spoil here, but it ties the film together in a radical way. I'm saying radical rather than profound; the story isn't bookended so much as it is layered (sorry, I know this is vague language, but you know, spoilers). Ghost Stories isn't perfect, of course. There are some dangling plot threads, like the protagonist's father in the home, the court case at the beginning of the movie involving the psychic, and I'd love to know what happened to the rest of the protagonist's family, namely the sister.

Ghost Stories is original but not wildly so; as all movies invariably age and become dated, Ghost Stories' title won't do the film any favours in fighting off the onslaught of time. However, the film delivers a message I like: inaction is just as deadly as action. If you disengage with the world, allow weaknesses like fear to stop you from acting, and/or misuse your time, you can't claim innocence. This film shows that there is a place in Hell for inaction.

There's more room for comedy and grand ideas in science fiction because SF is the art of the possible. Futurama is a genius show because it managed to be both hilarious and have clever SF plots. For example, the time travel episodes connected to other episodes while maintaining a SF logic. Look at the episode "Roswell that Ends Well," a (hilarious) story that developed into a larger plot where Fry is the chosen one to ward off the brain spawn. Or, the episode focusing on Fry's dog, which would not have been as touching if not for the internal SF logic keeping the plot together. And, thanks to the open nature of SF, Futurama was even able to have fantasy-focused plots, like "The Honking" and even "Bender's Game."

Straight-up fantasy isn't as strong because for it to remain fantasy it has to adhere to stricter confines. Science fiction can be post-apocalyptic, set in a space station, a military setting, or even a few years from now, like Pacific Rim. SF can even be part fantasy, like Star Wars. Fantasy by itself however is almost always set in a castle. Sure enough, the opening of Disenchanted is in a pub, then castle town, then the castle. You have fairies, ogres, elves, and demons, all standard fare for fantasy. The only new or interesting element is the king's wife, who appears to be a member of a Zora-like race from the Zelda series.

But such innovations are rare given the limitations of fantasy and Disenchantment's stubborn choice to play it safe. The show is filled with stock, boring characters. The protagonists are all the same, in that they feel like they don't "fit in." A spoiled brat princess who wants to be a warrior? Holy cheese but that is a plot as old as time. An elf who doesn't like being a happy elf? It sounds like the creators saw that crappy Will Ferrel (spelled right?) movie and just ran with that plot. The elf even remarks in episode nine, when approaching the other elves, "I smell cocoa, caramel, and conformity!" Wow, what a rebel. How about you take charge and muster up ambition instead of complaining, dude?

It is a tactical and insulting choice of using such malcontent characters who refuse to fit into society as Disenchantment's protagonists. The creators of Disenchantment are trying to pander to a demographic, the demo being misfits, losers, basement dwellers: people who have always wondered why they don't "fit in" while stubbornly refusing to change and/or better themselves. After all, who else would watch an animated sitcom about three bores who run away from responsibility to play in a fantasy world? Sounds like the comics and video game industry to me. (By the way, the creators of the show are very wealthy people: they certainly "fit in.")

Disenchantment tries to make you laugh with bouts of gore and violence, a cheap attempt to make you laugh with shock. (Huh, elves and gnomes blowing up giants. Clever, guys.) But in this day and age, such cartoon violence is ancient, old hat. The most famous episode of Rick and Morty (a tedious and overrated show) is the one where Rick turns himself into a pickle and slaughters a group of sewer rats: but really, the violent parts of that episode were the most forgettable. There's also a monologue in the pilot where a priest-type character proclaims skepticism in her belief in God, ending with the line, "If I talk with confidence, you dopes will believe anything I say." (Shots at people who believe in God. That's great, guys. Enjoy that false feeling of superiority, and that big empty hole in your heart.)

I suppose the show has some potential. The colours are beautiful, many backgrounds looking like they were done with watercolours. I also like the design of the demon Luci... but not the voice. He's well designed, almost always appearing in profile form, with a long black pointed tail and tiny cute horns: I can see the design working well in a comic strip. But the voice spoils him. He would've been stronger with a voice more like Bender's from Futurama, instead of some smarmy hipster-type dude. Bender's voice is different, and it needs to be different because he is a robot. Luci the demon sounds like someone you reach when calling customer support. It's weird too, the similarities between Luci and Bender: both are misanthropes, both smoke cigars and drink hard liquor, both say "chump" like it's meant to be funny. But Luci's black sprite design is the highlight, and most original and clever part of the show.

Is the show funny? No, not at all, it is actually very slow. You chuckle once every 25 minutes or so. If this was Groening's first effort he'd be forced out of television and into a different field (perhaps even a literal field, like landscaping or agriculture or something). It doesn't help that a lot of the season is a tease. Apart from the tired gags (rejected from Futurama?) the plot offers no closure. Elfo's lineage is a major plot point but we don't see any payoff, and after this limpness of this first season, I'm not motivated to waste any more time to see where the plot goes.

This is an excellent movie and the best time at the cinema I've had in a long time. I'm not alone in that, either: ask the rest of the people in the cinema who shrieked at the sight of the shark, laughed at the humour, and gasped at the impressive stunts. Why don't they make movies like this anymore? Most of the time now when I go to the movies I'm getting preached to. The only two white men in Spiderman: Homecoming was the villain and a racist teacher, and no one likes teachers (unlike racists on the other hand, haha, that was a joke, have to explain that in today's PC society). Anyway, The Meg is a movie that gives us what we want: an entertaining story.

Jason Statham plays a very capable and brave hero named, no joke, Jonah. (I guess Jonah didn't get along with whales *and* sharks.) Jonah and a diverse (but not too tokenly so) group of scientists have to team up to kill a 30 meter-long shark, and the whole show is glorious. You'll see wonderful machines, beautiful oceans, and beautifully scary nightmare sharks.

The action is impressive. Jonah repeatedly impresses the team (and us, the audience) with not just acts of heroism, but *insanely* brave acts of heroism. There's a scene where the shark capsizes a boat and both Jonah and Suyin, the love interest, hang from a railing; Suyin falls into the water and Jonah, without even blinking, jumps right in after her. If there was a gigantic shark churning in the brine beneath me, I may be tempted to stay clinging to the rail like a wet cat no matter how nice the love interest's hair looked that day. (But I'm just speculating, I don't know that for sure.)

The actress playing Suyin is charming and the chemistry between her and Statham is natural and real. Suyin is a single mother, and the movie ends with almost a cliche: Jonah and Suyin get together, with Jonah becoming not only a husband but a father to Suyin's child. So, the family unit is restored. There's nothing preachy about this: people (moviegoers) like this because it's real. Jonah shows again and again throughout the film that he's a dependable hero: the film's conclusion grants us strong resolution as we know that Jonah will be a dependable father as well.

The supporting cast is strong as well. Rainn Wilson plays an eccentric billionaire, Winston Chao and his silver goatee play a wise scientist, and Ruby Rose plays a severely angular-looking woman covered in gross tattoos. On a side note, Rose recently garnered controversy for saying that poverty is sexist. I agree: the homeless are overwhelmingly male. By the way, Ruby Rose's salary is currently between $150,000 and $200,000 per film, and her net worth as of 2018 is estimated to be $2 million. (What's that nonsensical catchphrase Rick from Rick and Morty says all of the time? "Wubba Lubba Dub Dub?")

Anyway, go and see this movie. It's fun and what a Hollywood blockbuster is meant to be. Cinemas in the west right now are dying, and entertainment "experts" try to blame services like Netflix, but this is not the case: Hollywood, keep making movies like The Meg and we may just see people willing to return to cinemas. Honestly, it's not too late. We just want to be entertained.

There's more room for comedy and grand ideas in science fiction because SF is the art of the possible. Futurama is a genius show because it managed to be both hilarious and have clever SF plots. For example, the time travel episodes connected to other episodes while maintaining a SF logic. Look at the episode "Roswell that Ends Well," a (hilarious) story that developed into a larger plot where Fry is the chosen one to ward off the brain spawn. Or, the episode focusing on Fry's dog, which would not have been as touching if not for the internal SF logic keeping the plot together. And, thanks to the open nature of SF, Futurama was even able to have fantasy-focused plots, like "The Honking" and even "Bender's Game."

Straight-up fantasy isn't as strong because for it to remain fantasy it has to adhere to stricter confines. Science fiction can be post-apocalyptic, set in a space station, a military setting, or even a few years from now, like Pacific Rim. SF can even be part fantasy, like Star Wars. Fantasy by itself however is almost always set in a castle. Sure enough, the opening of Disenchanted is in a pub, then castle town, then the castle. You have fairies, ogres, elves, and demons, all standard fare for fantasy. The only new or interesting element is the king's wife, who appears to be a member of a Zora-like race from the Zelda series.

But such innovations are rare given the limitations of fantasy and Disenchantment's stubborn choice to play it safe. The show is filled with stock, boring characters. The protagonists are all the same, in that they feel like they don't "fit in." A spoiled brat princess who wants to be a warrior? Holy cheese but that is a plot as old as time. An elf who doesn't like being a happy elf? It sounds like the creators saw that crappy Will Ferrel (spelled right?) movie and just ran with that plot. The elf even remarks in episode nine, when approaching the other elves, "I smell cocoa, caramel, and conformity!" Wow, what a rebel. How about you take charge and muster up ambition instead of complaining, dude?

It is a tactical and insulting choice of using such malcontent characters who refuse to fit into society as Disenchantment's protagonists. The creators of Disenchantment are trying to pander to a demographic, the demo being misfits, losers, basement dwellers: people who have always wondered why they don't "fit in" while stubbornly refusing to change and/or better themselves. After all, who else would watch an animated sitcom about three bores who run away from responsibility to play in a fantasy world? Sounds like the comics and video game industry to me. (By the way, the creators of the show are very wealthy people: they certainly "fit in.")

Disenchantment tries to make you laugh with bouts of gore and violence, a cheap attempt to make you laugh with shock. (Huh, elves and gnomes blowing up giants. Clever, guys.) But in this day and age, such cartoon violence is ancient, old hat. The most famous episode of Rick and Morty (a tedious and overrated show) is the one where Rick turns himself into a pickle and slaughters a group of sewer rats: but really, the violent parts of that episode were the most forgettable. There's also a monologue in the pilot where a priest-type character proclaims skepticism in her belief in God, ending with the line, "If I talk with confidence, you dopes will believe anything I say." (Shots at people who believe in God. That's great, guys. Enjoy that false feeling of superiority, and that big empty hole in your heart.)

I suppose the show has some potential. The colours are beautiful, many backgrounds looking like they were done with watercolours. I also like the design of the demon Luci... but not the voice. He's well designed, almost always appearing in profile form, with a long black pointed tail and tiny cute horns: I can see the design working well in a comic strip. But the voice spoils him. He would've been stronger with a voice more like Bender's from Futurama, instead of some smarmy hipster-type dude. Bender's voice is different, and it needs to be different because he is a robot. Luci the demon sounds like someone you reach when calling customer support. It's weird too, the similarities between Luci and Bender: both are misanthropes, both smoke cigars and drink hard liquor, both say "chump" like it's meant to be funny. But Luci's black sprite design is the highlight, and most original and clever part of the show.

Is the show funny? No, not at all, it is actually very slow. You chuckle once every 25 minutes or so. If this was Groening's first effort he'd be forced out of television and into a different field (perhaps even a literal field, like landscaping or agriculture or something). It doesn't help that a lot of the season is a tease. Apart from the tired gags (rejected from Futurama?) the plot offers no closure. Elfo's lineage is a major plot point but we don't see any payoff, and after this limpness of this first season, I'm not motivated to waste any more time to see where the plot goes.

Pacific Rim is one of my favourite movies of all time: it is a work of genius and love. I'd place it in the top two or three slots of "best movies" in my life. It is a rare, rare thing indeed when I leave a movie theatre feeling grateful; the original Pacific Rim took me right back to childhood and made me feel a wonder I hadn't felt in years. I love Pacific Rim for the same reason I love giants: giant monsters, giant robots, what have you. Maybe it's the same love and wonder as the kind that inspired the like of countless folk tales, the Titanomachy, Goya's El Coloso, Godzilla, Gulliver's Travels... and what a joy to see the giants contend with one another.

Pacific Rim Uprising is not as good as the original, and I'm going to outline why in this review: but, before I do so, I want to say that the movie gets a lot right. I was both surprised and delighted in parts of Pacific Rim Uprising, and I'm happy to say so, because I don't like to run any movie down, or to pick anything apart. You'll see a list of names a mile long constituting the credits at the end of any movie, and blockbusters like these usually takes years to make. Who am I to denigrate something that so much effort went into? A movie really is bigger than I am. However, I love the original, and I need to dissect the sequel's lesser parts. There is effort in Uprising, and the effort pays off in parts: but like Jake Pentecost (protagonist and son of the hero from the first film) and Scott Eastwood's character (son of one of the greatest actors in history) Pacific Rim Uprising is in the shadow of its "precursor."

I'll start with the good: -Pacific Rim Uprising has wonderful action and great set pieces. Seeing the different locations was fantastic, like the the frozen north and exploring more urban environments. The fighting spirit from the original lives on: wonderful fun and joy in titans smashing up a city. -The fights are (usually) very well depicted. A fight scene is like a story in itself: you have the set up, escalation, climax, then boom, resolution. Spectacle like this is why we go to the movies. -Some genuine surprises: I did not expect to see a kaiju brain in the giant robot, for example, and I did not see Newt's plot twist coming.

Now, the bad.

First and foremost, one of the teenage jaeger pilots, on the way to fight for the end of the world, uses the jaeger's screen to show the "Mr. Trololo" singing video. Yes, really. I'm not joking. They played the "Russian Rickroll" for us. Wow. This... ripped me from the moment and the immersion of the movie. I guess the filmmakers were trying to cater to the youtube audience, figuring that much of the audience of this movie are, what, teen, basement-dwelling trolls? I can't begin to count the many reasons how awful playing this meme for us was. Pacific Rim is meant to exist in its own world. The original crafted its own universe: it introduced us to such terms as kaiju blue, the drift, the neural handshake, the Precursors: brilliant world building and writing. Playing this meme feels even cheaper than product placement, and that's something. It's not even a joke, it's a reference: the same criticism of Family Guy. Family Guy doesn't tell as many jokes as it does make references. It's a cheap grab for laughs, mentioning or showing something that you have laughed at or enjoyed in the past to get a laugh now.

Also, showing Mr. Trololo was just inconsistent with the logic of the movie. Most jaegers need a co-pilot where they mentally "drift," sharing one another's thoughts. In the movie, when the kid springs the singer vid meme, it's a surprise to the co-pilot: but wouldn't he actually know, if they're inside one another's heads? And also, these kids are piloting gigantic robots as big as skyscrapers. The cost of one of these jaegers would be what, billions? And these robots are used to fight the apocalypse: literally, *fight* the apocalypse. Can *you* imagine a WWII fighter pilot surprising the other soldiers by playing Internet memes on the way to, what could be, doom for the human race?

This meme really did spoil part of the movie for me and its inclusion was on my mind as I was walking out of the cinema. When I saw the original, I felt gratitude when leaving the cinema, for that aforementioned wonder. Del Toro never pulled crap like showing a meme or reference in the original; it wouldn't have even entered his head. Why? Because del Toro doesn't pander to or patronize his audience. He has class. Pacific Rim is a movie about giant monsters and robots, but he never thought the subject was beneath him. That's why people are happy to celebrate and give him awards.

Also in poor taste was a scene where one of the pilots uses his jaeger to flip off one of the jaegers. Yes, really. I don't know why the filmmakers thought to patronize us further and make these scenes so goofy.

From here, I'll list the rest of my negatives in point format.

-The music from the original is almost nonpresent. The soundtrack from the original is part of what gave Pacific Rim its soul, and it was ultra cool to boot. Really, go to youtube and listen to the Pacific Rim Main Theme now. It makes you want to jump up on tables or go for a run. (Seriously, it's part of my jogging playlist.) The trailers had a remix of the main theme with 2Pac, which adds nothing, and isn't even featured in the main film.

-The robots usually look great, but they move much, much too quickly. In the original, the jaegers moved slowly. This helped build in us the idea of the terrific scope and gravity of these giants.

-Nearly all the players from the original are blown up. Becket, the protagonist from the original, is mentioned, but his disappearance is not explained. (If it is, I didn't hear it, and I was paying attention, so it wasn't explained well.)

-The actors aren't "punished" like before. Guillermo del Toro was happy in building a "torture device," referring to the jaeger pilot cockpits. In the original, you could see the actors straining to lift their legs to move the robots; here the actors are (very) obviously running on treadmills. You could make the case that the technology has developed since the events of the original film, but seeing the strain on the actors adds to the drama of piloting the mechs.

-The giant robots of Uprising do not have the same presence, personality, or character as the jaegers of the original film. Crimson Typhoon, a robot in the original, had a head inspired by HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Cherno Alpha, who is named for a pagan Russian god, was shaped like a nuclear reactor, and I still smile thinking of Cherno rampaging into battle against Otachi like a wild bull. It's such a shame Typhoon and Alpha don't return, as their bodies are still laying at the bottom of the ocean. In Uprising, 90% of the screen time is given to Gypsy Avenger, which is "Gypsy Mk II." Its body is just the same as gypsy but with a more standard, robot head. Really, Gypsy Danger's bullet-swivel head in the original has much more charm than a homogenized design. -This lack of personality is the same with the kaiju, the little screen time that they get. The monsters showing up for Uprising's climax do not have the same character as the monster from the original film. The three of these kaiju are all grey with glowing blue eyes: yeah. There is zero of the personality or presence in these monsters as Leatherback, the skull-faced King Kong, Knifehead, the goblin shark abomination, or Otachi, the creature literally filled with surprises. The only real surprise offered to us is that these three monsters fuse into a single giant, a surprise spoiled by the movie's trailer. This "mega kaiju" is impressive, but has a disappointing end...

-The final confrontation is an anticlimax. In a scene very (perhaps even too) similar to when Gypsy Danger slays Otachi high up in Earth's atmosphere, Gypsy Avenger simply flies into the sky and then crash lands into the kaiju, killing it. No final fight. Imagine if Luke Skywalker just jumped from a catwalk and landed on Darth Vader or the Emperor and ended the fight that way? Pretty lame, eh? That's what you call an anticlimax. -The jaegers and kaiju are mostly present in the day. While daylight helps us see more detail, the night and constant rain environments of the original helped added to the drama and mystique of the giants.

-The cast. Annoying kids, and John Boyega speaks in a thick slang rife with incorrect grammar (he does a spot-on impression of Scott Eastwood's character in the movie and shows that, yes, he knows that it's "you weren't" instead of "you wasn't.") I haven't seen Scott Eastwood in a movie before and I never realized how incredibly similar he is to his father, right down to the cowboy tough guy voice and squinty eyes. The female lead exists only to tease these two dudes; there's some weird love triangle that is never explained and goes nowhere. The young cast isn't exactly stellar, either, and all feel tokenly diverse.

-Weirdly, many more bystanders are killed in the rampages of Uprising as opposed to the battles of the original, where we knew people were held up and protected in anti-kaiju bunkers. Having so many bystanders killed onscreen takes away from the fantastic that fueled the soul of the original; these killings are a poor attempt to add grit to where there should be none. The original showed no bystanders getting killed, so the cities the giants fought in were like great sandboxes for these creatures to wrestle in.

So, there you have it. I could go on: the scene where Gottlieb and Newt beat up the very large, armed security team is contrived (two tiny scientists, one of which has a cane,) and Newt's "demon voice" is lame, for example, but really: I'm just happy that we have a sequel. There is literally nothing else I want to see in cinemas, and I haven't been to the movies in months. Come back, del Toro!

If you want Park's best, see his Pirates movie, with Hugh Grant. I know Wallace and Gromitt is what put Park on the map, and W&G are treasured (for good reason), but The Pirates was absolutely brilliant: a laugh a minute, inspired adventure. The process of making a stop-motion movie must be laborious, so it's a shame we see so little from Park's studios. Even though Early Man won't blow you away, it's still worth your time.

Not Park's best work? Yeah. The setup and writing is kind of slow and stodgy compared to Park's previous work, but but it's still very, very, very good content: especially when you compare it to the numerous, mind-numbing 3D animated movies Hollywood pumps out. Off the top of my head, Early Man beats out The Nut Job, Over the Hedge, Turbo, The Boss Baby, The Emoji Movie, My Little Pony... Cars... good lord, I'm making myself sick. Listing all of these subpar movies one after another like this is like eating a bunch of empty calories. Nick Park's work easily stands heads and shoulders over this mass produced crap, even if it's not his best. Early Man is *fun.* It doesn't pander to children: it's clever, fun, and the stop-motion is nothing less than charming.

A year or so ago I saw an animated DC movie, "Batman and Harley Quinn," which was truly terrible. I watch animated shows and find that I don't enjoy them. "What's wrong with me," I think. "Can all animation I see be so terrible? Am I becoming jaded?" But, hey: no, it's not me: most of the animation presented to us *is* bad. You have to see excellent content like Early Man to draw a distinction.

I liked the original "Cloverfield" because a.) I love giant monsters and b.) I love found footage movies. This is the third Cloverfield movie and it doesn't really have either. "The Cloverfield Paradox" feels more like a space-thriller sort of a thing, like Alien minus the Alien. Which is a shame. I never know now if Cloverfield's going to offer me monsters, scares, or spies.

What, spies? Yeah. As the movie progresses there's talk of espionage, war, information gathering, blah-blah-blah. I got a James Bond sort of feel from "Paradox" in parts, what with the espionage and all the British accents.

Plot: a tokenly diverse crew of astronauts (thumbs up for the comic relief Irishman) head up to space to test what's basically the hadron collider, but in switching it on they create a wormhole/tear in the spacetime continuum/alternate reality/big mess, causing general confusion and the Cloverfield monster to fall to Earth. But we see so little of the monster, and that's disappointing. Instead, most of the movie is the crew running around their little tinpot ship and gasping along with the musical stings. Instead of dealing with the monster they contend with the ship malfunctioning and each other. Yawn. (I have insomnia tonight, by the way. It's 4:03AM as I write this.)

When you hear Clover, or Cloverfield, you think of the titular monster, not a space station void of creepy-cool monsters. We do have glimpses of the creature, and I liked the ending, but this film would've been stronger if it capitalized on the mystique of the "creatures from the alternate dimensions," the Cloverfield monster included.

That said, I can see where the filmmakers are going with the Cloverfield series. The original idea for the Halloween movies was to have each installment be a self-contained story; that's why Halloween II doesn't feature Mike Myers. I think these guys are doing kind of the same thing with this. The original Cloverfield was found footage and giant monsters. The third movie is a space thriller. The second movie had you locked in a basement with John Goodman... (*shiver*).