aarosedi

Quite a contrived nature documentary but definitely works wonderfully as a tourism yarn that's very much even-handed in showcasing the glory of the city of Amsterdam, its surface, and its underbelly. A delightful splurge of the one-and-a-half-hour running time in watching this one. The central character is (Abatutu), a tabby who would never be mistaken for an alley cat whenever seen strolling through the streets and cityscape amongst the human populace (Perhaps this is the character's attempt to get back to tip-top shape). And just like a seasoned amateur naturalist, the cat's observations about the different endemic and invasive species sprawling around him and virtually unharmed by the city dwellers are presented throughout.

Given the Internet has been fueled since its inception with cat videos and memes, surely, this film, though having a tone that caters more to a younger demographic, adults would find will find joy in it still. But for those in search of a light-hearted documentary about urbanized cats that has a more subdued tone, the Turkish film Kedi (2016) might be the one for you.

Kudos to the director and the cat trainer that managed to capture well the appropriate action/demeanor that the narrative needs of the lead cat and the supporting animals. For a very talented Abatutu, any more films with the same themes and conceits, perhaps traveling to other parts of Holland with his owner to showcase more storylines would be a splendid streaming gem to look forward to in the future. And also not forgetting the labors of the animal handlers and the videographers who painstakingly planned how to capture those spectacular shots that end up in the final edit.

A well-written story whose main animal character in English dialogue with an unmistakable Dutch accent was spoken by Martijn Fischer held up to make it an engaging and pleasant viewing as well. A bit of a caveat, though, this "documentary" has a few unavoidable upsetting scenes but was done in with utmost prudence.

My rating: B-flat.

The only way for Mr. Snyder to revisit the zombie moviemaking is to make it as incredulous a film as one could possibly imagine after creating a masterpiece that is Dawn of the Dead that even manage to challenge Mr. Romero's hold on the genre. But as a filmmaker, his introductory montages, spectacular vision, along with the acting ensemble performing human and zombie characters are still exemplary even if it involves as much kitch he could cram into the first few minutes of the movie. The desolate imagery balanced with the Vegas flashiness presented is well and is on their A-game.

My first impression having heard of the film was that, had Mr ZS made a reimagining of the Raimi/Campbell zombie extravaganza that is Army of Darkness. I wish he had done to be so, or at least try to be on par with that pne as far as humor is concerned. Army of the Dead still needed a few more laughs mixed in with the few snarks in all that some 2.5 hours running time. But gets the job done nevertheless. Makes the Netflix sub worth it.

My rating: B-minus.

A ghost from the past harboring secrets comes back to haunt the same group of people it festered 20 years prior.

The seasoned cast of British and Iberian actors hold their ground well in this modern-day drama superbly shot in the middle of the sweltering, sun-drenched Spain. Quite a treat.

The story struggles to build up steam owing to the messy back and forth switch between the past and present. The introduction of the characters at the beginning felt somewhat awkward. It is as though you have got acquainted casually with them at a rave, where you've both flirted and enjoyed the spontaneity of the moment only to realize the next day the harrowing regret. But that is where the fun begins, from an audience standpoint, where the narrative is indeed solid. But perhaps the mix of drugs, sex, and techno would move you through the beating heart of the story which make up for the lull at the start, which is a some episodes into the 10-part miniseries. Whereas it relied first on the flashy style and wry humor to entertain, the latter part is where the meaty drama lies.

A burnt-out Swedish fast-food photographer (Wilson) working in Los Angeles dreams of making a film that deals with and addresses to explore people's suicidal tendencies, but for him to obsess about it seems not enough to give him any artistic inspiration. Out of the blue, a mysterious woman (Davidovich) decides to sweep him off his feet, promising him a road trip from L.A. to L.V. that would gift him that much-needed creative spark.

What director/writer Björne Larson has managed to set up a "PG-rated" piss-take (actually R-rated for the profanity) on the public's fascination with the prevalent reality-TV culture with an undercurrent of a cautionary tale for wannabes blinded by the glitz of the Hollywood mega-circus. The story and script hold well in putting the filmmaker's sentiments across if not only seeming to paint a veneer finish for the themes explored. But solid execution nevertheless, from cinematography, editing, the works. Just don't expect a spectacular depiction of Las Vegas because although the story predominantly revolves there, much of that never left on the cutting room floor, it seems.

There's also a brilliant juxtaposition of characters in the story that serves the narrative well. An excellent ensemble of North American and Swedish actors never hammed their way throughout a film despite streaks of eccentricity in the film althroughout. There's that naivete that Wilson exudes for the protagonist hungry for any poetic inspiration and gives a splendid departure from his previous performance a few years back in the Academy-Award-nominated foreign language film Ondskan. Davidovich meanwhile provides the assured, knowing entity in the film that guides the young man through the semiarid backwoods, an enthralling one that is unmistakably a gender-flip of the Dean Moriarty character in Kerouac's seminal novel and the definitive roman à clef, On the Road.

Props also to Larroquette as the wannabe celebrity psychologist having difficulties dealing with an uncooperative, rebellious teenage daughter, and Germann, his assistant, acting in his best interest to facilitate their slide into reality-TV stardom. Together with the shrink's patients: Skarsgård, who looks like a tall and beefed-up Julia Roberts with all that wig and make-up, and Benz, a washout young mother, who were both graced with the ineptitude in trying to off themselves, both carrying just that right amount of endearing qualities for their respective clingy characters. As the incompetent chauffeur but doting father to his daughter, Fares' character suffers from being yet another two-dimensional character too many for the film. He could have at least benefited from a few more lines of back-story dialogue, all to complete the cocktail mix of clashing personalities. It's just a few let-downs in the film that further cements this film's place in the cinematic world as a gateway drug for cinematic works like, On the Road, Easy Rider, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, or Thelma & Louise.

The world could never not have any use for films with these kinds of stories, a watered-down version it may be or one can say derivative of the classic road movies, it's always of use for those who want a gradual measured descent in exploring such hard-hitting issues, the hard-to-swallow ones which always need the grittiness to keep it afloat. So, as always, forewarned is forearmed.

My rating: C-plus.

Breaking the chains minus the sparks

As mundane as making an omelet goes, one has but to break eggs to do so. The film comes through as a serious, competent melodrama. Complete with stellar heavyweights Howard and his production team, Close and Adams offering support for its upstart male lead Basso and an excellent secondary cast of character actors, the effort doesn't come across as spectacular. It deftly captured one man's journey having the desire to jump up into the next plane of existence to lift out others that one holds dear, such minor victories devoid of glint that makes the society great, ones which are done one small step at a time. A departure from the Hollywood norm where the number of accolades or the greatness of one's accomplishments that one receives and achieves need not only be how one can measure success.

The film doesn't provide a particular road map out of the doldrums. It presents a rather sturdy family drama set in middle America, perhaps not quite an accurate depiction, but the struggle is very much universal and relatable elsewhere. The saccharineness and implausibility that the cynical person in me can't escape how Vance's cinematic journey concluded, but make sure to check other dramatic films done about struggling people as well. The only sin this film ever did was not punch a bit higher, albeit explore the riskier aspects of Vance's journey to maturity granted having already a Hollywood machinery to back it up. So it comes off not as something that is a cinematic pedestal material, but something that does the deed.

My rating: B-flat.

Likening filmmaker-critics relationship to marriage is probably the most simple thing this film has ever pointed out. Everything else is quite complicated. Emotional volatility, if you will, when it comes to handling the emotion of another human being, given any commendation and especially deprecation of someone's cinematic "baby" never gets any easier to accept, some things said would inevitably bug someone out. And it works both ways, so being thin-skinned is never really an option in both side of tinseltown. So Sam Levinson's exploration of the subject whether or not born out of his real-life experience doesn't really matter. It is what it is, and he has done exceptionally well in making a glorified rant out of it. Tolerability of watching such indulgence is what matters, which he has exquisitely pulled off in utilizing the talents of high caliber like Washington and Zendaya as the titular characters. One could also say it to be quite Bergman-esque. Or an unapologetic Swedish master derivative that is Woody Allen as well during his peak in some parts. The choice of showcasing his story in B&W added a heightened charm for Levinson's work which makes it only accessible to those with tolerance for such artistic eccentricities. And the music/soundtrack is top-freaking-notch.

My rating: B-plus.

The film chronicles one week in the life of two siblings in their early teens as they once again meet a father, whom they have only seen in the family photos, after a 12-year absence where they then decided to go on a fishing trip.

A classical psychological drama from Zvyagintsev whose haunting minimalist soundtrack consistently, even in tense situations, never comes in an affronting manner, thus enhancing a rapport between the characters and the viewers that don't need superfluous dialogue to explain things further. Konstantin Lavronenko, Vladimir Garin, and Ivan Dobronravov, as the father, Andrey, and Ivan, respectively, effectively gave their characters an unremarkable yet captivating aura in them. The film also opted for a more low-key and lingering and cinematographic approach, choosing a more intimate emotional one in favor of a grand spectacle but still having enough background details showcasing the serene Russian countryside littered with rural construct and military detritus.

The uncomplicated linear storyline, repetition of themes and motifs, and the cinematic coda just consisting of photographs all point out also to a very much assured, confident and well-structured narrative that all makes for such an unforgettable filmic journey.

My rating: A-plus.

Had this film existed before Ruben Ostlund's wonderfully subtle but quite a heavyweight cinematic commentary, this movie would have been received as one of the more favorable Hollywood light comedy of the recent years which is quite a splended slight departure for Will Ferrell that's way more restrained than his usual output. Or maybe it would have been more effective as a cable network mini-series adaptation of three or four 40-minute parts because there are lots of comedic material one could squeeze out in that winter resort setting expanding it (though some might say that's dumbing down) would have made good use of Faxon's and Rash's solid background in American television comedies, not to mention the minted reputation of Louis-Dreyfus. It could have helped people dissect the brilliance of what the emotionally and philosphically-dense Swedish social-comedic masterpiece has accomplished despite only having a very taut premise. They would even be forgiven had they borrowed some tricks in the Seinfeld TV show toolbox to tweak the narrative by using American characters. There are fans like me who certainly wouldn't mind.

So as a one-off feature film, Downhill just ended up becoming that average film that looks significantly dimwitted when compared to the presence of the mammoth that is Force Majeure, which is quite unfair because, I'm gonna cite one example, even though that avalanche scene was executed decently, but comparison-wise, that's just where the lopsidedness actually manifests, so #ForeverInTheShadow of Force Majeure this film turned out to be.

My rating: C-flat.

Al most took my breath away with that scenario having the cat Jasper in a switcheroo muddle. Sure made me clutched my pearl necklace that I almost broke it. Gasp. Nice complement to [title=tt5016662] if you could get ahold of some episodes of that docu-series. Decent pilot episode indeed this one.

The Catholic themes and practices explored in this short film were utilized even-handedly to create a loving emotional journey that's all very relatable to other humans. Excellent production, straight-forward narrative not bogged down with extraneous details with flashbacks well inserted, and an impressive cadre of Canadian actors, as expected. A B-plus.

Denis Villeneuve accomplishes a tremendous feat in creating a film that could serve as a deserving counterbalance to two of Steven Speilberg's classic sci-fi flicks, Close Encounters of the Third Kind and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, and be just as successful in box-office revenue, albeit coming across as rather an underwhelming, sedate one.

Though all three films share common themes such as dealing with initiation of contact with alien life-forms and the ensuing communication or subsequent cooperation with such beings, the French-Canadian director made stylistic choices that sharply contrasts from that of Spielberg that resulted in an alien-contact narrative that enhanced the visceral experience while enabling multiple readings of it...

Though the film's muted meditation of a solitary life burdened by a troubled past may not be everyone's cup of tea, Mr. Gallo's single-mindedness of purpose succeeds in presenting a glacially paced road trip about a motorcycle racer as realistic as he sees fit. And it has a remarkable minimal soundtrack in tow that at least makes for a brooding film that is tad more tolerable to see through the end.

The film is a product of its time which enabled the filmmaker to make controversial artistic decisions that will be regarded as one of the most divisive, at least in American cinematic history. I consider its relevance to be able to transcend beyond the time in history in which it was made, for having undertaken such a risk even at the expense of his promising filmmaking career which the film eerily parallels with what his lead character goes through the film, a downward spiral towards self-destruction.

But speaking of the notoriety of the unsimulated sex scene between the two very good-looking actors, it is an air of awkwardness that is part of that scene in the story-proper which I found to have dominated it (and I stress that I'm not talking about the behind-the-scenes controversies regarding whether the writer/director/actor behaved ethically in making this film or not), both their performances superbly evoked the essence that the characters need to bring in the story, so that I consider that was more of a melancholic one than it is salacious.

My rating: B-flat.

*This is a revised version of a review I posted in another IMDb account dated June 2018. (Actually, more like an overhaul than it is a revision.)

My rating: A-plus. (Just like what others have already stated in this comment section: BEST WATCHED WHEN ONE DOESN'T HAVE MUCH PRIOR KNOWLEDGE OF THIS FILM:)

Starts with an unemployed Ki-woo who was asked to replace his college student friend in being a rich girl's English tutor even though he hasn't got qualifications apart from having been a repeat-taker of university entrance exams...

This one ends up becoming a thorough scrutiny of the gluttonous side of human nature which is always a welcome and an essential ingredient in any bitter satire that's in the same vein as one of those Coen Brothers' films. And this one needs to feed off the audience's unabashed derisive laughter for it to deemed a worthy yang to the yin of that J-P Jeunet classic Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain or even to a lesser extent C Nolan's Inception. Whereas the wistful rom-com and the meta sci-fi have its darker elements in the narrative neatly tucked away in its recesses, the Palme d'Or recipient does the exact opposite. Such dualism that occurs in the cinematic world is much needed which serves to cleanse each other's cinematic excesses. And it took a long time for a film like this Korean one to come by and serve as a worthy film to counterbalance the sentimentalism which can only be considered to be a magnet very much ripe for any Cy-Bugs to devour wantonly in such an orgiastic frenzy.

But the film itself can be considered as sharing the same kindredship and is way aligned more to the thematic and aesthetic sensibilities of Yorgos Lanthimos' ones (Dogtooth, The Lobster, or even the Favourite), if not quite to be considered as it's ugly, distant cocaine-junkie cousin, shares the same filmic DNA sure, though fun at parties but can be a bit of a deadweight accomplice. Whereas Boon-J-H's film is more rooted in emotional judgments that each of the characters made that has quite sensible outcomes, Lanthimos' looks like the logic that pervades throughout have just been delivered via a spaceship that endured light-years' distance flight.

Kudos to the brilliant actors and the technical crew that delivered polished work, all had their share in driving the narrative the writer/director put forth for it to become a resounding triumph. Made me laugh so hard I feel the need to re-watch it again soon. Not to give much away of the story, I will only mention one that's among my favorite scenes, that of one character's delicious rant mimicking North Korean newscasts delivered with much hysterical gusto. I can't help but fall out of my chair on that one. It is such an impressive, inspired work of an ensemble that might just beg for an American language remake because the immediacy of the issues explored might be considered to be a meaty enough for the Hollywood actors to consider sinking their teeth into, that is if the richness of the allusions that are very particular to the Korean identity and consciousness does not work against that thought.

Real life couple Mélanie Thierry and Raphaël Haroche teamed up to create this mesmerizingly taut film with Thierry being at the helm and Haroche serving as the accompanist. The story revolves around Nicolas (Charles Van de Vyver) a family man who works at a slaughterhouse where he suddenly finds himself transfixed upon a calf delivered one uneventful day.

With a relatively simple premise, the filmmaker manages to find a way to indulge the audience to gape at the atmosphere of the places which the characters of the story populate. And while the ending leaves one in a pensive state, the blissfulness of the closing music helps the viewer be weaned off from any residue of this truly disheartening short cinematic journey.

Though the Nicolas character is the focus of the film, the three other actors: Zoé Fauconnet as Estelle, his wife, Liviu Bora as Yuri, his co-worker, and Louise Blachère as Sandrine as the slaughterhouse supervisor, all of them are engaging performances, significant in development of a narrative that just lets the viewer organically form their own judgment, a style which never really gets old.

My rating: A-minus.

Movies are supposed to entertain and/or inform people, not throw people further into the abyss of despair. Perhaps it's the end of the world as we know it as to why they're making this kind of sh~%.

F-Y-I: This is a movie that cannot be UNWATCHED!

I'd rather commit harakiri than dupe anyone into watching this film, especially even as a joke because it's anything but that. I may have have the fortitude to endure watching the entirety of the film and live to tell (at least in this website btw) about the experience In my case, I was metaphorically strapped into the chair. A more apt description: Ludovico method. Seeing it once and having surviving that experience deserves some commendation. But watching this pile of rotting poo regurgitating it once more, however, I think I'd just die, limits of the human psyche and GI tract, please.

But then after I have contemplated in having watched this cinematic anomaly, I think that this movie is still worth that one-star IMDB rating, all for its conceit of testing the audiences' tolerance for anything that is stomach-churning in this world. It is a movie the pushed the boundaries as to what s__t they can think they can get away with to feed those who still depend on cinematic output for nourishment. And I won't apologize for the tasteless pun and analogy, f__k-that. People talked about this one still, giving it a dignity of being worth mentioning, otherwise they would have just simply opted to flush this one down the proverbial toilet, a place that it definitely deserves. We should now draw the line, starting with this movie, anybody trying surpass the depravity depicted in this one in the future should be shot in a firing squad, please. (Instantaneous death, no need to torture them because we're still humans, aren't we?) And they could sell tickets just for people to witness and delight in the spectacle and stuffing themselves with all the junk food the world while they're at it.

The movie's worst assault to the intelligence that warrants it a humongous flunking mark, giving the ending of the already horrific movie a tragic tone, at least for one of the victims. (F__k no, I dare say, egregious might it have been throughout and also considering the dreadful body count that this uber-flimsy horror flick delivered, for me, it should have had actually a comedic one, and already end the story there and not draw it out creating further sequels). But perhaps for those people who will stick for too long wondering where the narrative will bring the viewer, that's whole point. #

One has the freedom to choose the right method for them to watch this film, whether completing watching this film in installments, the film has been divided into 12 segments or chapters to guide and help them accomplish that that, or watching this black-and-white film in one sitting to actually immerse oneself with the story. Though the preferred way of watching it for seven-hours-plus uninterrupted helps in a greater appreciation of this Bela Tarr classic because it very much heightens the visceral experience in fully marinating one's consciousness with the characters, the narrative, the space in which the story unfolds, to really almost transport and connect the viewer them to that specific place and time...

What is interesting to watch in this film is the way the directors captured those intimate moments and the subtlest of emotions that doesn't escape their gaze.

In this film, Rick and Amy are seen in a middle of a game of Scrabble. The delightfulness of the occasion, where the film starts as Amy sings a nonsensical lyric soon deteriorated into a seemingly battle of the sexes. A delightful character study that's sure to pique the viewers' interest and satisfy voyeuristic impulses...

John Ashford arrives home, presumably from work. He then checks his answering machine, and some kind of realization crept in that led to perhaps a sort of micro-meltdown. He then spontaneously decides to record a new voice greeting, but obsesses to what he finds to be as the most satisfactory one where he relentlessly repeats the task until he finally achieves a sort of mini-triumph. The whole process goes on for the whole 7.5 minutes of the film's running time which is worth to check out for actor Mark Duplass' gripping emotional nakedness is in full display, the intimacy of which the director has succinctly captured for this dainty cinematic curio.

My rating: C-plus.

It's no mean feat incorporating all those different logos, essentially laborious fruits of graphic design artists, giving those creations their proverbial 15 minutes by creating this hodgepodge that pays homage to the Hollywood staple of action-adventure romp, cop-buddy movies, and most of all, those disaster flicks that depicts a series of misfortunes that hit a fictionalized version of Tinseltown all happening in a span of a day with a pair of bungling Michelin mascots seen covering their police beat.

Though this 2D animation can be considered rough on the edges, it befits the aesthetic conceit of making it look like a collage awash with pop culture images with a soundtrack and musical score that succinctly captures the broad array of moods explored throughout. It is a severely violent animated catastro-vaganza that's never short on both visual and ironic humor.

All flash, not much substance; a sort of an inbred love-child of pop and postmodernist art. This 16-minute-plus film addresses the disdain felts towards the by-products of American brand of capitalism, everything that can be considered as unhealthy, garish, flamboyant, and ostentatious, and who better tackle that than the French, the people who pride themselves as having introduced the cinematic medium to the world. And by using Los Angeles as the setting for the film, home of the most prominent cinema and television industry in the whole world and dumping all those global capitalist brands and appropriated corporate mascots such as the ubiquitous McDonald's clown embodying the angst of somebody who feels more and more estranged by the fast pace of the ever-expanding universe he's in, it accomplishes in becoming a sheer escapist fantasy that's ridicules something, but it's certain that no one can ever feel slighted by such a gesture.

My rating: A-flat.

The IMDb user review guidelines suggests the use of English in expressing one own's thoughts and sentiments regarding the films/movies they have just seen is very much preferred in the reviews, although I've encountered some instances where people have kind of reverted back to speaking (or writing) in what is perhaps their own language, encountering phrases other than English every now and then is really no biggie. But now I have started to see that the cute innovation in e-communication, those emojis, have already crept into some submitted user reviews now (and I would state that I'm guilty of dropping ASCII ideograms/emoticons in reviews;) so I have no complaints there, that made me actually quite glad, but I'm kind of bothered about that at the same time. I find those things cute and consider it useful in spicing up whatever thought I'm trying to express, or lines of emojis such as this:

🍴🙏😍👍🎯🎥

is kind of struggle in squeezing enough brain juice to assemble that. A different language altogether. Perhaps I'm already to just too old for head to rewire new neural connections to be just as quick on my feet as the kids nowadays when it comes to those things. Talk about generational gap. Or I better leave such things for emojilogists to decipher. But using such for adornment, I find it quite fun, which kind of made me think of a modest proposal that maybe the IMDb crowd might one day consider. Perhaps by alloting a separate space in their website, or one could call it a shrine a corner in the webpage where people can sort of attribute what emoji would most describe their experience in having watched the film/movie in a more playful and colorful manner to complement the existing numeric rating (which is useful in sorting, or in giving a perspective of how a film stacks up against other films/movie made), those smiley face, crying face or poop emoji (that is if that would not be regarded as an unaccepable) will kind of give audience a chance to express their feelings or warning people of what they could expect about the film/movie. But perhaps imposing a three-emoji maximum would do for such a thing, which will then be displayed in a part of a the webpage, or a separate page with the frequently used ones ending up bigger than the lesser-used emojis, the same way some websites highlight the frequently used keywords by presenting them in bigger or slightly bigger fonts than the other lesser used ones. And those people who have difficulty in filling up the 50-character minimum requirement for posting reviews could knock themselves out in such a space, a place that will perhaps give a glance of what would turn out to be like one of those mini-Bruegel painting made of different emojis.

I am aware that the GetSatisafaction message site is the more appropriate place for leaving such suggestions, but mine is not really a pressing matter. I'm just rambling and just compensating for having not much good to say about this movie.

For a film that professes a moral that one should embrace their multidimentionality instead of hiding it, which is always a good thing, they sure used the wrong subject to proclaim that. Even though what ends up becoming as a well-intentioned, satisfactory CG-animated movie that's overflowing with kawaii appeal, and gives one a snapshot of tech/cyber landscape nowadays that perhaps in a few years time reach its obselescence, and a public bathroom scene with Gene and his parents which I find quite hysterical (one-layered humor where one doesn't need to wear a thinking caps to process it), and the variety of outstanding voice talents asked to participate in the film that includes comedian Steven Wright, a spot-on on being cast as Gene Meh's dad, all of that really was not enough to really redeem this movie. And I know it's easy to pick on an criticize a Razzie-awarded flick, but I just have to agree with them on that, because using a story of a rogue emoji, programmed to do a certain task and does something else, really just makes the main protagonist look more like an aberration.

My rating: 🦊-trot.

This short film still remains in the shadow of the filmmaker's and casts' previous effort, Call Register, which kind of delved into a tech feature that, a few decades on, has already lost its novelty, although this worthy sequel is more topical and has a much greater sense of urgency in presenting an issue and imparting info to the viewer. The same thing can also be said with regards to the jocular conceit of the film where rehashing the narrative elements that made the first one successful provides a sort of a continuity to emphasize the theme recurring in the sequel, but such can only be accomplished at the expense of the awe factor.

Whereas the first short featuring the efforts of director/writer Ed Roe, actors James Lance and Martin Freeman featured Vivaldi's Four Seasons in its soundtrack (Summer, third movement, in particular), this short film had no musical score perhaps in an effort to impose an air of realism to the work that need not to lure people, sort of, into the film's rallying cause, a feat that needs only an the ever-radiant actress like Anna Friel, who plays Julian and Kevin's charming next-door neighbor Isobel whose zeal for recycling, it turns out, can have such an infectious effect on others.

My rating: B-flat.

Martin Freeman, well known at the time this short film was made for his work in The Office U.K. as Tim Canterbury, sort of a foil to David Brent's (Ricky Gervais) delightfully gauche boss, was given here a chance to flex his acting chops in a story revolves around the technological advance in modern comms called caller-ID/call-register, a thing now taken for granted almost two decades on. Freeman plays Kevin, a bit of a charming slacker-type, who seen with his buddy Julian, played by James Lance, who gets to be the film's designated straight-laced no-nonsense character where the interaction between the two actors was a joy to watch, and then when Neve McIntosh's character Amanda was dragged into in the fray, the result, a short film that's crawling with cringe-comedy components.

The perils of overthinking simple situations devolving into such a huge mess that comes back to haunt someone, in this case, that would be Kevin, and such has always been a successful trope in comedies, and Freeman's superbly brilliant subtle characterization was what kind of compelled me to just "drop by" and express my appreciation for this one.

My rating: B-plus.

I'm a guy who's big fan of Teen Titans (2003), one of the best animated cartoon series that ever came out of the noughties. The re-imagining of the style of the much-loved animated series was just a moderate success, made it easier for those on the go, as they say, to watch recent installments by cutting down the running time in half, Though this time blowing up the bite-size series into a one-and-a-half hour flick that have a larger budget which did wonders on the sound tech and musical scoring side btw, the movie can only be considered a moderate success relative to the bite-sized Teen Titans Go! (2013) series.

Strictly a movie for older kids and the diehard fans of the franchise, the crowd that won't care much for the juvenile-ish plot or song lyrics, or sometimes potty-mouthed dialogue that only a mother could love, so to speak, or an audience who wouldn't notice the relevance of Nicolas Cage having yet-again another borderline masochistic career choice by lending his voice in this movie as Superman (Always hard on himself and picking on his old wounds much, that guy.) All the casting choices could never have been better: Will Arnett as the villain, Kristen Bell, etc. It's a movie not just for those not yet old enough to vote in an election for there's even a Stan Lee cameo to help connect to the senior citizens who might be in the company of toddlers enjoying this film, not making them feel they are being left out, or perhaps they might still have a heart of a 25-year-old, figuratively or literally, who knows?

My rating: C-flat.

I'm a guy who's big fan of Teen Titans (2003), one of the best animated cartoon series that ever came out of the noughties. The more-recent incarnation that catered heavily to the young adolescent audience or perhaps to include those with way less attention span than usual by shelling out those 10-minute episodes which I find decent enough for me to check once in a while and still find it funny. I just love hearing those voices that were behind the success of the original series.

I might as well use Marlon Brando's last line in Francis Ford Coppola's 1979 war epic upon witnessing Asian characters portrayed by Anglophone Asian and American-Asian actors engaging in piquant banter on screen amidst such scandalous display of opulence. That helicopter seen mid-flight to the tune of the Ride of the Valkyries was not included in the film without a reason, perhaps it's the director's reminder to the Asian-American viewers, at least the East Asian ones, to know of the significance of that Coppola magnum opus. One might as well approach this film as a story of an economics prof, Rachel, (Constance Wu), being introduced into the Singaporean elite crowd by her Brit-educated beau Nick (Henry Golding), and slowly be immersed and trying not to get lost in a "jungle" filled with posh jewelry, haute couture and designer handbags. Such flaunting of extravagance is really just a matter of taste.

I'm gonna throw in a bit of spoiler: the story has a happy ending for the alpha couple. A non-shocker. But despite that, the film barely got into the rom-com territory because there's actually way more tenderness in the scene that Nick had had with his onscreen mom (Michelle Yeoh) that seeped off the screen than the ones where he had been with Rachel, and that has nothing to do with anything Oedipal. It's that scene that followed after Nick's shirt got involved in a beverage mishap, the exquisiteness of such maternal concern kind of emphasized the lack of intensity yet in the relationship of the romantic pair. But that might have something to do with the mileage the mother-and-son relationship has already trodden and the romance between the young lovers have not yet reached full bloom. And in turn, Rachel's interaction with her female companions got quite a chunk of the screen time, which is indeed where the comparisons with the The Joy Luck Club (1993) gets to be spot on, a film that showcases the contemporary Asian-American experience, juxtaposing the Kleenex-on-the-lap film to this one's popcorn-on-hand kind of a movie. That change of attitude in approaching female-centric narrative featuring Asian-American characters is very much a welcome one for a lot in the world has already changed since the Wayne Wang film came out, still contains old-fashioned values that some people still crave, but this time, mixed with the crassness and obscene flaunting of wealth with all their swanky soirees and majestic mansions. It is a film with a cheesy exterior, but has a more somber theme that lurks in the background.

Wu is definitely perfectly cast as the Asian American getting a taste of East Asian hospitality, she has that right amount of earnestness that makes her just perfect for her character. Same thing goes for Golding, a very fine chap, bit reserved, bit dorky at times. The film also features one of the more inspired acting performances that Yeoh has done in recent years. There's also an ethereal presence from Gemma Chan as Astrid. The usually wacky Ken Jeong gives a way more subdued and endearing performance that doesn't necessarily deny the audience of some chuckles. Awkwafina and Nico Santos were bit of a revelation in playing characters that could easily be mistaken for stock characters, but theirs were more of a tempered one having an air of self-awareness despite the gaudiness (in the case of the Peik Lin Goh character) and the excesses (of the Oliver character) that surrounds them. And to top it off, Lisa Lu adds a dignified presence to the proceedings, explicitly giving this film that connection with the 1993 Amy Tan adaptation.

Oh, Singapore. I'm not really convinced of the idea that it is such a "sexy-fun" touristic destination though. That came through kind of a bit forced. But for a place that has a reputation for being stringent and aseptic (which is probably what they're trying to loosen a bit with this film), it sure is the proper place to have such a conceit in trying to snatch HK's crown as the ultimate Asian culinary destination. And that for me, is more than enough reason, or the number-one reason, (Mm-mmm, them crabs) for me to ever want to visit that place someday.

My rating: B-plus.