Movies and television shows I've watched and reviewed. Click any poster to read my full review. Spoilers present.
I use Letterboxd (nomagicpill) to keep track of movies I want to watch. I use both Letterboxd and this page to keep track of movies I have watched.
I first watched this movie when I was in elementary school, probably 9 or 10. That was [redacted] years ago and this shit still slaps. Me and my sibling occasionally make references about dislocating our shoulders to get out of tight spots. We try to sneak up on each other like Jack and Riddick. And while this movie probably isn't good enough to warrant that behavior in most people, it did for me, which is all that matters *insert happy crying emoji here*.
But seriously, this movie is sick. You start thinking the title is because of Riddick and his eyesight. How can that be an issue? It's bright as a motherfucker out on this desolate, unoccupied planet. Riddick can only do damage if it's dark or he has his goggles on. Combine that with how few hiding spots there are (or at least appear to be... it becomes obvious there are plenty, even in a desert!) and the so-called good guys have the leg up. It becomes apparent that Riddick is just playing games and knows who the real enemy is.
The sense of horror you feel when the eclipse is dawning on them is unreal. The size of the planet, the slow speed at which it's moving—these two sights are enough to tell the crew it's about to get real dark for a real long time and there's absolutely nothing they can do about it. Combine that with knowing those godforsaken creatures can see in the dark and the dread washes over you like the shaving grease Riddick was using to stay bald.
DotJ is more of a show about troubleshooting (as Charles would put it!) and problem-solving than the shadowy world of for-hire assassins and the politics and messy relationships surrounding it. (I won't speak on the feasibility of a lot of the kills and methods, but as far as myself and the internet can tell, they're probably not super accurate.) Time and time again Charles is forced to solve problems, whether they are planned (how do I get away from this place after killing this guy?) or on-the-fly (how do I get away from this place now that I've killed this guy and people will be here in 20 seconds?). He consistently comes up with ingenious (albeit potentially impossible, or at least incredibly improbable) ways to accomplish his missions. A few examples (again, looking past feasibility for argument's sake):
This concept of "solving problems" to commit murder has many parallels to Gwern's On Seeing Through and Unseeing. Charles doesn't confine himself to physics, his appearance, or discomfort. He challenges how difficult some shots actually are, creates intricate disguises that are accompanied by excellent supporting documentation, and is prepared to wait as long as he needs to to get the job done. This is the main reason why I enjoy hitman/assassin art (video games, movies, shows)—it's awesome seeing the ideas the writers come up with!
The problem solving isn't limited to murders—it also extends to personal problems. Charles has to lie to his wife about his work, and only once she discovers his secret safe and room does he offer up some info, albeit it's still a lie. One challenge with lying is anticipating all the directions that the new reality that's been created can go. Every lie creates a new branch that must be meticulously tracked lest a slip-up occurs and the lie isn't consistent. Charles has it easy thanks to the level of isolation he designed and maintained between his family and professional lives.
Charles' moral code, or lack thereof, is confusing and contradictory. In Afghanistan, he killed his entire team because either a) they're terrible people who murdered a bunch of innocent people just trying to enjoy a wedding, or, more likely, b) to fake his death so he could operate more freely. He regularly talks about how other people are good people, yet murders innocent people for money or to get away. As the show progresses, he seems to get better about this, sparing the lives of people who have clearly seen his face. Is this because his face is already known and there's no point in racking up more bodies? Or is he developing a sense of mercy and discretion?
Now for some random checks:
This movie has the most still shots I can think of in living memory. It may even have the least number of unique shots—each individual shot is quite long, and when it's not still, it barely pans. The only crazy shot you get is when Casey is dancing like a madman in front of the car headlights. The stillness is representative of Columbus as a city: sleepy, nothing going on; her dancing is representative of her trying to break out of her shell, but failing to do so quickly and going back inside soon after.
Casey and Jin's regular staring at lit buildings from the darkness is another style of beautiful imagery. They're in dark places looking at places that either inspire or give them hope (buildings) or hurt them (Casey finding out her mom has relapsed).
Both Casey and Jin are holding onto parents that will never get recover despite their best efforts of a support system or modern medicine. There's a glimmer of hope that they will, but both know they're probably better off letting them go and continuing on with their lives. You think this finally happens at the end when they're all in the car together, but Jin decides to stay while Casey leaves, leaving them trading places.
Masterfully written and sounded (as in sounds). Ruben goes deaf, then crazy soon after. The audience goes with him, from a happy life of disgusting smoothies in the morning, fun road trips with the love of his life in the afternoon, and loud shows full of fans in the evening to one of silence and isolation. He can't talk to his girl; his musical rhythm is thrown off since he can't hear anything; he can't even talk to his AA sponsor. His life is thrown off track in a literal moment when he's standing in front of the merch table. He had a plan, he had a future. They were up-and-coming, on their way to the big leagues before this happened.
Ruben is left all alone, quickly becoming a part of the deaf addict community and the communities they're integrated into through volunteer work. The weather (yes, that weather) is nice, sunny, warm. His unfortunate, yet necessary, departure is marked by rain clouds and a return to real life in the form of a motel and eating pizza out of the cardboard box by himself, a far cry away from the comfy bed and delicious homemade meals and camaraderie felt at the dinner table.
The hearing is not as he expected. Whether that's because he didn't read or understand the brochure (meh likely), didn't hear or listen to the doctor (very likely), or it's just a plot hole is left undefined. The hype is built up over the course of four weeks, only for everyone to be let down when he puts it on. But this third act is distinct because the noise isn't beautiful like it was before he became deaf, it's now ugly and jarring and confusing and disorienting. Digital sounds zip in and out of Ruben's head quickly. He has trouble understanding people. The movie culminates in him visiting Lou, ostensibly to get her back but really to get his life back: the girl, the music, the tour, everything. He understands that she moved on in life while he was away and that there's not much he can do about it.
Sound of Metal is about trying to get back to that time in your life after you lost it. It could be begging an ex to get back together so you can feel a tinge of the same happiness; it could be going to high school parties in an attempt to relive the glory days; it could be spending egregious sums of money to pay your way back to something. It doesn't matter what it is, what matters is that it's gone and will never return. Better get accepting.
The sound design was wonderful. There were no subtitles when we were in Ruben's shoes and he didn't know sign language, but things got progressively better and with them subtitles appeared. Ahmed did a good job of "yelling" when deaf. The going in and out of silence to noise and back was superb.
Some review highlights from Letterboxd:
That's ultimately what the film spends the rest of its runtime navigating: The impact of that desire, and the consequences. When something cataclysmic happens, you can do everything you can to go back to your old life, or you can try to accept your new one.
one of the most devastating parts of life is not being able to get back to a happiness you once had, especially if it involves people you love. feeling that joy slipping through your fingers, time cannot rewind and only moves forward, and without your consent. relentlessly, painfully. adapt or die. this is a crushing look at that fight against time and change, but it's also hopeful, and eventually peaceful. the sound design was incredible and the hardcoded subtitles were such a smart move.
Bone Tomahawk isn't (just) a western horror flick. It's a story of the times, of love, of heroism and bravery, of accountability, of war, of hatred, of boredom and misery. It's masterfully written and shot.
Set in the 1890s, the plot follows of a group of townspeople on a rescue mission for three of their own who were kidnapped in the night by Native Americans (aptly called "troglodytes" in the film—nobody used Native American back then!).
Life is pretty rough in the 1890s, especially out west. They make soup that gets mistaken as tea and called disgusting, lack modern medicine (besides that sweet, sweet opium tincture), wear long sleeve clothes everywhere, and occasionally have to deal with cannibalistic troglodytes raiding their horse stables and kidnapping their people. This roughness, combined with the pervasive boredom that fills every room in Bright Hope, is a core reason why they decide to embark on the rescue mission: there's simply nothing else to do. What's worse, sitting around in a dusty, dark bar paying 10 cents for the same few shitty piano songs to be played by a drunk or making a five-day journey in three with the risk of never returning. Those with excitement in their lives may say the former, but those lacking in excitement will happily choose the latter, especially if it brings back memories of the war or gives another chance at killing some more troglodytes (shoutout Brooder).
Bright Hope's sense of community also compels the men to go. Their camaraderie, with Hunt at the helm, is quickly established through the first name addressing and obvious familiarity with one another and their backgrounds, existing conflits or not. Hunt feels both a personal (on behalf of his friend and community) and professional (as the lawman of the town) obligation to avenge his fellow townspeople, one strong enough to reject The Professor's assertion that they will die at the hands of these people:
Hunt: You'll take us to them?
Prof: I won't. Hunt: 'Cause you're an Indian? Prof: Because I don't want to get killed. ...
Prof: You'll get killed if you enter their territory.
...
Hunt: How many of 'em you think there are?
Prof: It won't matter, you have no chance against any number of them.
Hunt hears and understands the Professor's words, accepts them into his Sheriff-in-a-western-town-hardened soul, and proceeds to say "[fuck it, ]I'm riding out with Mr. O'Dwyer because there isn't a choice for either of us", leading us to the third reason they go: honor.
These are honorable men. They take responsibility for their actions and positions: Hunt for being sheriff, Chicory for being deputy, Brooder for getting the wife involved, and Arthur for going after his wife despite his leg being broken. The initiative is as strong amongst all of them; no one shirks from the mission despite the Professor's stern warnings. Is this common for that day and age? Or just the west? Or were the kidnapees just lucky and the troglodytes unlucky in the town and people they chose to kidnap from? I suppose a combination of all three. I struggle to imagine an equivalent situation happening now, albeit we have SWAT teams and robots to do the job.
The film isn't littered with Hunt and co. massacring their way through hundreds of vicious Indians to save the damsels in distress locked in the teepee tower, it's raw, unfiltered, and in quick spurts with long periods of boredom in between to really drive in what life is like. And even those quick spurts aren't supplemented with music or nauseating cutscenes: they're barebones, letting the brutality of the environment and people in it drive the intensity of the scene. The lack of a music is a central feature, not a bug, of the film; it enhances the violence because the viewer is focused entirely on the grotesque sights and squishy sounds (hopefully not smells!) of the kill.
Tension remains in the air throughout. From not knowing where the troglodytes are (i.e., they could be even closer than expected) to meeting and killing potential raiders in the desert, the viewer is on edge while the party tires over the multi-day journey.
The book feels like a digital companion to McCarthy's Blood Meridian. A few select quotes for comparison (for those who have watched, but haven't read; I'm trusting quotes from others on the internet as I don't have a readily available copy):
It makes no difference what men think of war, said the judge. War endures. As well ask men what they think of stone. War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner. That is the way it was and will be. That way and not some other way.
The white man uncocked the revolver and placed it on the ground before him. Two of the others came back to the fire and stood uneasily. Jackson sat with his legs crossed. One hand lay in his lap and the other was outstretched on his knee holding a slender black cigarillo. The nearest man to him was Tobin and when the black stepped out of the darkness bearing the bowieknife in both hands like some instrument of ceremony Tobin started to rise. The white man looked up drunkenly and the black stepped forward and with a single stroke swapt off his head.
Two thick ropes of dark blood and two slender rose like snakes from the stump of his neck and arched hissing into the fire. The head rolled to the left and came to rest at the expriest's feet where it lay with eyes aghast. Tobin jerked his foot away and rose and stepped back. The fire steamed and blackened and a gray cloud of smoke rose and the columnar arches of blood slowly subsided until just the neck bubbled gently like a stew and then that too was stilled. He was sat as before save headless, drenched in blood, the cigarillo still between his fingers, leaning toward the dark and smoking grotto in the flames where his life had gone.
If God meant to interfere in the degeneracy of mankind, would he not have done so by now?
They found the lost scouts hanging head downward from the limbs of a fireblacked paloverde tree. They were skewered through the cords of their heels with sharpened shuttles of green wood and they hung gray and naked above the dead ashes of the coals where they’d been roasted until their heads had charred and the brains bubbled in the skulls and steam sang from their noseholes. Their tongues were drawn out and held with sharpened sticks thrust through them and their torsos were sliced open with flints until the entrails hung down on their chests…
I found the contrast of the troglodytes quite interesting. They get dissed on for purported lack of intelligence by the Professor during the initial town meeting:
One that doesn't have a language. Cave dwellers.
They're a spoiled bloodline of inbred animals who rape and eat their own mothers.
Yet they show decent smarts (more than I would expect given the Professor's unflattering description) in the form of being able to:
And are a formidable foe thanks to their camouflage, hunting skills, and home field advantage in the Valley of the Starving Men.
Is this a piece of social commentary? How people deemed savage and barbaric are actually much smarter than they appear?
From Reddit:
think the imprisonment can be explained by thinking about how we imprison cattle or any other animal food source. They were cannibals, so you want to keep your food alive until you can eat it, especially, when you don’t have a freezer.
[reply to above] Yeah, kind of their equivalent of a refrigerator.
[reply to above] yep, and opening the scalp is like opening a can's lid
[reply to above] Cracking open the boys with a cold one
Loved how sudden and not-telegraphed all of the encounters with the troglodytes were. Like, the heroes round a corner and get shot in the arm by an arrow. There was no loud fanfare to these climactic face-offs. Something about how close and quick they were really unnerved me. Because you realize they can happen at any time, without the usual horror movie tropes of a musical crescendo or whatever.
The emotion portrayed by all the actors, not just Murphy, was phenomenal. When Murphy made his speech after the "successful" use of the bombs in Japan, you can see him swirling around in his head, dizzy from the events that have unfolded and caused inner moral turmoil. No music is needed, no explanation. Just his face and the surroundings slightly blurred.
I think the movie was made for two reasons. First, to showcase the development of the atomic bomb and all the effort that went into it, from recruiting scientists to building Los Alamos to maneuvering through the political battlefield. Second, to tell Oppenheimer's side of his infamous story, to remove the blemish from his record that some may know about, to inform the public through a probably-beloved-in-the-future film. Nolan did a spectacular job at this. I assume most everything is historically accurate (although I never read Rhodes' The Making of the Atomic Bomb) given Nolan's reputation.
Special effects were minimal like most Nolan films, but I don't think this added much...
The flight scenes were fantastic in this movie. All the actors were seated behind real-life military pilots during the scenes and being subjected to real-life forces during the flying, hence the real-looking effects. Tom Cruise has always been adamant about doing his own stunts and making movies look and feel as real as possible. I love this mindset and think more filmmakers—actors and directors alike—should pursue and abide by this. It adds significant credibility to the movie and enhances the realness.
Maverick leading by example is also huge. Him doing the 2:15 min flight path without missing a turn or the initial missile strike (my favorite scene) when no one else could instantly boosts him up; him being mission leader and doing the exact same thing solidifies his position as the best of the best.
The action scenes were phenomenal. Most action movies nowadays use extremely fast switching to instill a sense of excitement, but this often leads to headaches and nausea (at least for me). TG:M used a bit of this, but not nearly as much—somehow they just didn't need it.
The story worked well and they did a good job of continuity from the original. Characters are still there with their own storylines, the history of everyone is recognized and implemented, and they pay homage to the previous film quite a few times (although it may be a bit too much). A few cheesy quotes here and there, but that's to be expected from a film like this.
Bale puts on quite a performance as a sociopath! The mannerisms, the speech, the thoughts. Everything works well together. Outside of it, I didn't find it that entertaining.
A key part of this movie is seeing how differently everyone takes the case: some people are serious, others treat it frivolously, others have an strong inclination to blame the kid. Those not taking it seriously share two things in common: not truly understanding reasonable doubt and not accepting the gravity of the situation—a person's life is at stake! And to think there is someone there who practically refuses to listen to the opposite side just to attempt to catch a baseball game.
Reasonable doubt is just that: any amount of doubt towards the guilt of the accused means not guilty; and not guilty is just that: NOT guilty. It doesn't mean innocent, it means they can't be proven to be guilty. It's not letting a guilty man free, it's preventing an innocent man from being punished (see Blackstone's ratio). The last few I-choose-guilty men seemed not to understand this for one reason or another.
The amount of refusal to listen to reason was frustrating as hell. The "is it possible?" is all that's really needed to instill some doubt. No one can or should be that sure of something occurring, and it is proven in the movie: they're sure about the knife, boom! Identical knife. They're sure about the man hearing the murder, boom! Slow walking and a long distance debunks that. They're sure about the woman seeing the murder, boom! Two impressions on her nose and some simple logic prove otherwise. At each one of those instances their guilty confidences should have decreased, but instead they doubled-down on other pieces of evidence, moving the goal posts further and further (at least in a sense).
I liked the simplicity of the movie: a single set (minus the courtroom itself and outside the building), the use of 12 main actors, and no gimmicks, only dialogue and raw emotion. Reminds me a bit of Reservoir Dogs. The acting is superb: I hated the Juror 3 and appreciated the jurors who changed their mind and stood up for what they thought was right.
Grunge afffffff. So grunge that Nirvana's Something In The Way was practically the theme song. So grunge that Robert Pattinson wore makeup around his eyes and rarely bothered to clean it up.
First off: Gotham's ambience. Wow. It matched Batman's character to a T. It was dark and gloomy, rainy and wet, sad and on the downturn. The sun wasn't shown once throughout the entire three-hour movie, supporting one of Batman's first assertions of being a "nocturnal animal". There were a couple of times that the sun was on the horizon and Gotham was lighting up, but still early enough that the former (maybe current after thinking about it??) vampire wasn't burned. I can't think of the specific moments the sun was coming up, although I suspect there was some type of symbolism there towards a realization or change in or of Batman.
The soundtrack also matched. Almost Darth-Vader-like, but not quite.
I do wish Batman would kill at some point. Yes, I realize that's part of who he is as a person/franchise, but classic characters are able to be reimagined and reshaped into what their original creators never intended them to be. Whether that's bastardization of Batman I do not know (but my intuition tells me it isn't). His method of knocking his enemies unconscious is unrealistic and improbable. At some point someone's gonna die. It's a movie, I know I know! But still! I thought it was gonna happen when he was pummeling that Riddler wannabe on the catwalk. I really did. And part of me was hoping that after the criminal died, a look of realization would spread across Batman's face, quickly followed by satisfaction and a thirst for even more vengeance, one that couldn't be quenched in one movie, but many. And not by one criminal's henchmen, but multiple, giving us entertainment for years to come. I'm not arguing for indiscriminate murder. The deaths should be tactful (if you can even call it that) and appropriate, not willy-nilly-let's-go-kill-silly.
So how do I propose this movie should have incorporated death? It should have started in the subway. Batman should have immediately killed the clown leader to set the tone for the rest of a freaking awesome movie.
Fight choreography and driving scenes were pretty sweet. Not sure if I'm a fan of his Batmobile... The Dodge Charger vibe is different, and to me doesn't really fit with the billionaire vigilante's badass car vibe, but it's still cool. It does fit with the angsty personality. A suped up Mustang or a Challenge if anything would have been cool(er). Same thing with the motorcycle. I thought it odd, yet interesting, that he rode around so incognito on the bike.
Paul Dano gave a really solid Riddler, almost as good as Heath Ledger did Joker back in The Dark Knight. The vibes you get are incredibly creepy while still giving the illusion of control of his actions, no matter how crazy. Apparently he insisted on shooting a particular scene at least 200 times. The laugh, the mannerisms, the look in his eyes. I haven't seen another Riddler film, but I know crazy when I see it, and Dano nailed it.
Now, onto more philosophical topics: principles. Batman's entire character and purpose is built on principles. From Wikipedia:
Bruce Wayne's principles include the desire to prevent future harm and a vow not to kill. Bruce Wayne believes that our actions define us, we fail for a reason and anything is possible.
He simply wants what's best for his city, even if that means achieving such through violence and fear. The purpose of Batman-ing is to inspire hope in Gotham citizens, to facilitate them believing that they are really able to help their city—ordinary citizens, not just the high-profile and rich! The wannabe-Riddler answers Batman's "Who are you?" in a chilling manner: "I am vengeance", the same line Batman has used time and time again when introducing himself to new "friends". It was at this moment he knew he fucked up. The viewer suddenly realizes that morality is relative, that everyone is the good guy in their story, that what those wannabes were doing was right according to their twisted moral code. And Batman just told them that it was okay. So the question then converts to a cost-benefit analysis. Is what Batman is doing helpful enough that it outweighs what the Riddler and his followers are doing? The death of city officials is temporary, but so is inspiration. New figureheads get crowned and hope wanes. The magnitude of each varies.
Another twist was that of Thomas Wayne's reputation, which was publicly tarnished (well, we never got the full crowd reaction, but I imagine it was) after the Riddler revealed Wayne's request to have a reporter killed for investigating their family. Bruce was understandably shaken by this, but soon rose above it, choosing to be his own man with his own principles, however guided by his late father they may be.
The movie ends with Riddler meeting the Joker in Arkham Asylum, a standard ending for movies teasing a sequel.
Hate to do this, but Meek Mill said it right:
Learn life, it's levels to this shit
And Margin Call makes it readily apparent. The movie portrays the entire hierarchy of a nameless investment bank, from Joe Blow analyst to his boss (who gets fired) to his boss to his boss to the CEO. An each time submissiveness to the next level is abound. Even the young hotshot partner (played by Simon Baker) appears to cower in covert fear at the possible wrath of the head honcho (played by Jeremy Irons). They point fingers behind others' backs, trying to save face while also taking care of business themselves. There is little responsibility taken as made clear by Demi Moore being scolded by Kevin Spacey for not taking substantial action the year prior when they first heard about this. Instead they veil their personal concern as one for the firm, but few are fooled. While not familiar with the finance industry, I see and have heard of this other places. People are only concerned about the company's health when it impacts them personally, whether financially, reputationally, or emotionally.
And coupled with personal concern is lack of societal concern. Irons is quick to find out how to save himself without wondering what the wider costs are to his fellow Americans (well, unless it affects him, of course!). The others are the same way, and again it is mimicked amongst real corporations today. Companies turn a blind eye to atrocities when it benefits them, while simultaneously denouncing others when the optics are in their favor. The only consistency is the desire for profit and the "best" way of achieving it.
And the levels puts into perspective wealth on a societal level. We have Seth, the junior analyst who makes "close to a quarter of a million dollars", flabbergasted at his boss' boss' net comp of a couple mil. And even that's nothing when compared to the CEO, who made close to $100MM! Baker is shown driving a Jaguar F-Type; Irons is shown rolling up to the skyscraper in a helicopter. People who made probably $500k/year are seen being worried for their future due to what I guess is an unsustainable lifestyle caused by overconfidence in their job security and the gross amounts of disposable income available.
I'm not sure what to make of the final scene where Sam is burying his dog. I take it as a reminder of what seems important out there is not so much when compared to other, more traumatic events (not to diminish the severity of losing one's job!). Sam is staring down the barrel of economic collapse, yet is torn to pieces at his dog dying.
I have a theory that most people really enjoy movies in which they are cast into the worlds of powerful and or smart people, much like the characters here. This one is no exception, although the superb acting does help!
This movie is not sci-fi action, it's sci-fi horror. Just watch the police station scene. 30+ heavily-armed policemen can't stop this guy. He rolls in and demolishes everything in his path, taking a whole hell of a lot of bullets in the process. And yet he's unfazed. Imagine that. The few people you feel truly safe around are getting killed without mercy or second thought. And this guy is after you! Hell naw. This isn't even counting the 10+ shotgun rounds Sarah witnessed him take at the nightclub. Truly an unstoppable force who has plenty of resources at his disposal: weapons, a durable body, ability to change voices.
But, like all action movies, silly behaviors are abundant. How did none of the policemen realize he was practically invincible? At 3:20 one guy hits him with a full-auto rifle, gets killed, then his buddy comes and does the same. Both of them without even attempting to get behind cover after popping up and shooting their shot!
I like the idea of Reese being John's father and think the idea is original, but have to bump my rating of T3 down a bit after they reused it with John and Kate. Do something novel, damn it!
T2 killed it. T3 didn't. Simple as that. (We'll see how T1 compares.)
Most of the action scenes in T3 were way too drawn out and inspired from T2. The car chase scene after kidnapping (read: saving) Kate was cool in the regard of the T-X being able to control cars remotely, but too long. Same with the fight directly after the cemetary.
The T-X itself was a good concept: more control of other machines (see last paragraph), a larger weapon arsenal, more intelligent. Definitely fit the bill for a new and improved terminator.
The plot holes from T2 are still there.
I really like the fact that General Brewster sent John and Kate to Crystal Peak not to destroy Skynet, but to save themselves and eventually lead the Resistance. I definitely thought that's where the computers were and wondered why there was no one guarding it (although that remains a mystery...). In the end, John ended up leading the Resistance.
Released in 1991, the special effects in T2 were insanely impressive. Now, I wasn't even alive at the time, so I'm not sure what the average SFX quality was, but knowing what late 90s movies were like, I doubt they were that good. Bravo to the team that created that. See more about T2's SFX impressiveness here. The T-1000 animation also won the Academy Award for Visual Effects.
The major plot hole I see (outside of the whole grandfather paradox aspect) is why Skynet didn't just sent a whole bunch of T-1000s back in time instead of just the single one? Arnold would've been toast had there been a single extra T-1000, much less a dozen. And knowing Skynet's capabilities, they could have easily done so. And knowing how critical John Connor's death was to the survival of Skynet, they should have. But then we probably wouldn't have a movie, so thanks, Skynet.
Acting on all fronts was good. Arnold killed it with his seriousness and demeanor, followed by him trying to learn normal behaviors, like the hilarious high-five scene in the desert. John did a good job of acting a punk kid who has a slightly soft side towards his mother. Sarah played the role of crazy woman well in every scene she was crazy in.
The crew nails it again. Most shows that carry on for multiple seasons seem to regress down a path of desperation and jumping the shark. Ozark refuses to do this and sticks to what they're good at.
The same dark vibe covers every character just as much as the past few seasons. No one has changed their ways; if anything, they've gotten more cunning and ruthless. Wendy's true intentions and capabilities are on full display throughout the season. Her manipulative techniques, her vindictiveness, her calculating, bold moves. Her power hungriness knows few bounds outside those of threats on her and her family's lives.
We are also introduced to Javi, Omar Navarro's nephew and frontrunner for assuming leadership of the cartel. Our initial introduction is that he is friendly, but about 15 seconds later he shows his true colors and intentions. He, too, is ruthless, but also impulsive and impatient. He craves power and control over what he wants, making Navarro concerned for his own safety. The character continues to develop: everyone is uneasy around him and his snooping. But I think he's what makes the season what it is. A wrench thrown in the cogs that disrupts and threatens the order, forcing others to adapt to his presence and make do.
I am surprised at Wyatt's complete change of heart despite knowing Darlene killed two (mostly innocent) men. I understand the whole baby needing a parent thing, but she is evil as can be. I am not surprised both of them were offed, although I half-expected Javi to also kill Zeke for cleanliness. And as Marty mentioned earlier in the season:
If you don't stop, their response is gonna be quick and it's gonna be brutal.
Which really got me thinking: the only people in this show who are practically untouchable are the cartel. They use fear and power over others to get what they want, and most of those under that umbrella comply accordingly. If they don't, dead. Not sure why Darlene wasn't killed off earlier.
I am disappointed that the Shaw Pharmaceuticals security guy didn't go and take care of business on the heroin-dealing hillbillies. The mood was right, the timing was right, so why couldn't we get a bit of action! I'm not asking for John Wick style, just a couple of headshots and coming out with cash and dope.
Not much else to say. The various subplots all work together and interweave seamlessly while still being independent. Great job!
The water must have made the main character stupid as well. Do people never learn in horror movies?! A few prime examples:
As expected, gun use and realisticness was subpar (although I noticed decent trigger discipline!). They expended entire magazines on individual zombies, they used the infamous unlimited ammo cheat, they didn't aim down the sights. The helicopter ride scene to the mansion was pretty sweet.
The opportunity for a sequel is left open at the end by hinting at Wesker's origin story and showing the others as escaping from Raccoon City.
Overall, a pretty bad movie with money-grab vibes. Like the other Resident Evils after Apocalypse, this probably shouldn't have been created.
Exactly what I expected. Cool fight scenes, cheesy quotes, and some amount of unrealistic moves that help Stallone escape.
There were a few issues with the ship's prison. If this was truly a for-profit prison that abided by no one's laws, then why take them out of their cells out at all? If I were an evil prison warden, every prisoner would stay in their cell 24/7/365. Absolutely no leaving it. The only communication to the outside world would be through me. The doctor would be under strict watch at all times, as would all of the guards. Further, why not just execute the ones who aren't needed anymore? Take Breslin, who was locked up to prevent him from embarrassing other prison wardens. Why not just kill him and avoid all the annoyance that comes with containing him? As for the ones who need to be kept alive to get information, that is another story.
I really liked the plot twist of Rottmayer being Mannheim and his daughter actually being in the CIA. Was not expecting that one.
I was also surprised how Breslin literally killed two guys in the beginning scene to get to the SHU, and then was let off scot-free. Seriously?!
The mood is set early into the first episode. Gi-hun's sad, lonely life is explained through his gambling, desperation, and mother's shaming. Pity and disgust are simultaneously felt, one side saying he's sick, he's not right in the head, and the other saying he's failed his own mother and daughter, he's a weak man. A too-good-to-be-true opportunity presents itself, setting the stage for the games to begin.
The writer/director/whoever did an excellent job of making things known without explicitly saying so. After the gangster player kills the man and the prize money increases, the precedent is set and everyone, including the viewer, knows it: murder is fair game. But this fails to align with equality, the theme of the games. Players' ability to kill differs drastically. Il-nam can't stop an attack from an average adult male, nor would most women.
Two desires are examined throughout the series: that to be alive, and that to become wealthy. The latter transitions to the former as the games get more intense and deadly. The final game becomes a battle for survival first and riches second, if being considered at all.
The final twist is unexpected. I initially thought it a ploy by the organization to get Gi-hun into a private room, then thought it was a lookalike Il-nam, then came to terms that it was actually him. I took his enthusiasm throughout the games as either senility—a lack of awareness of the true stakes—or apathy stemming from his inoperable brain tumor.
What a disappointing end to such an awesome era of Bond films. There are only a handful of things that can ruin an action movie for me: cheesy quotes and plot armor. Throughout the film Bond becomes an absolute softie towards Madeleine Swann, beginning with a romantic trip to Italy and culminating in him watching an incoming missile and saying "I have always loved you". Seriously? The plot armor is equally as bad: while fighting on the island, he is standing in a wide-open space as five goons are unloading full-auto rifles at him. Miraculously, he manages to walk (not run!) to cover without being hit and proceeds to kill all of them without effort. While not getting hit is fine under some circumstances, no cover plus five machine guns is not one of them.
The action and cinematography were both solid.
The plot was confusing. It seems Safin's only beef with James was because of his relationship with Swann, but otherwise there's no real reason behind wanting to take over the world. Paloma, the Cuban spy who helps Bond kick ass in Cuba, is set up to be a contributing character, but ends up being only featured in the Cuba scene and nothing else.
Yet another detective show: a protagonist who is struggling in their personal life while having to fulfill their police duties. At this point, a plot twist isn't a plot twist. It's an expected element that's predictable. There's marital issues, jealousy, friendship conflicts, and everything that goes into a typical detective show. Admittedly, there were two plot twists, which added some amount of surprise.
I am pleasantly surprised that the good guy I was rooting for, Colin, died. That's life. The person you want to make it through doesn't always live. GRRM apparently does a good job of this in GoT. I am also happy within Kate Winslet's weight: her body was how I would expect a woman-in-her-position's body to look (and I don't mean that in a condescending, ugly way). It didn't stand out much and wasn't excessively fit.
One idea I have for detective shows is to hide both the amount of episodes and runtime of each episode, unless the viewer specifically navigates to see those. This would prevent viewers from saying "oh, this isn't the guy" when there are two episodes left and they seemingly bagged their culprit.
Another Nolan-esque film with a distinct style of storytelling and an unheard of plot. Two storylines are presented: one going forwards in time, the other backwards. They eventually converge at the end of the film, but in the middle of the story.
Is that really what it's like to have short-term memory loss? Do people not believe you, questioning your claims and testing your abilities and chastising your forgetfulness and mistakes? Take colorblind people. They are constantly being asked what color this or that is, as if they are faking and the questioner needs proof. Are people really that cold-hearted enough to take advantage of you when they know they won't be caught and there is virtually no downside to it? Do you really begin to go crazy like Leonard did, wondering what's real and what's fake and why you crossed that out and wrote that and what you were thinking at that time and what actually just happened and why you're in some random dude's motel room and why that guy's chasing you with a gun?
The viewer begins to take on the perspective of Leonard after deceit is seen and things don't add up. Guesses are made at one minute, then changed once the backwards story rewinds a bit to see the previous events, and again and again and again...
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Nolan swings and hits again with a very, very novel concept: reversing time. Note this is not time-travel as most people understand (read: think about). Rather, from t=X where X > 0, time starts to go backwards towards 0, while the person who is reversed (or inverted, as they call it), is experiencing his own thoughts normally, but the world "in reverse". It takes some thinking and getting used to, evident by all of my friends who watched it being incredibly confused during and directly after the movie. Similar novelty to Inception—something that hasn't been made before, thought of before. The layers of inversion add complexity to it in the same sense the dream within a dream ... within a dream does.
One nice touch/detail I particularly enjoyed was Neil's quote "What's happened, happened." While simple on its face, it explains a lot of the movie's sequences. Take the heist scene in Tallinn, specifically the highway part and seeing the SUV driving at them in reverse, then throwing the package across the hood of the other car (i.e., the car in between the middle of The Protagonist/Neil and Sator's men), it turns out the driver of the middle car is actually The Protagonist in reverse, come back in time via turnstile to save Kat. Same with the turnstile-SWAT scene in the vault.
Poor audio mixing has been a complaint of many about this film, especially in theaters, but I didn't notice it (I also used subtitles). Soundtrack was solid and really added to the movie.
On top of the conceptual aspects is a fun, thrilling spy movie complete with action and suspense.
Theory on the opera house and trainyard scenes from Gabe Selden (source) (it was in paragraph form, but I'm too lazy to format, so here we go):
Here is my full breakdown of the opera and train-yard scenes in TENET: From The Well-Dressed Man’s perspective, he had been tasked with obtaining a “package” from a Ukrainian high official, and his mission is to then hand it off to the CIA. We join him as he is seen celebrating with the high official by attending an orchestra performance at the Kiev Opera House on the 14th. It can be assumed that the exchange had happened at the opera house, for the package is in the WDM’s spot at the coat check. It should also be noted that the high official had been in communication with the WDM (for an unknown amount of time) not knowing he is an undercover CIA agent. From the CIA’s perspective, they have gained intel that there is going to be a terrorist attack on the Kiev Opera House on the 14th. Because this is the same day their contact, the WDM, is making the exchange, they think either the terrorists may be working independently and found out about the exchange (because they may have their own interest in the WDM and the package), or the Ukrainian high official may be behind the attack in some way (perhaps he uncovered that the WDM is indeed an undercover CIA agent). The CIA is basically then operating on “do not trust anybody” because to them, the high official, terrorists, and even the Ukrainian SWAT (who could be following orders from the high official) could all possibly be playing an intricate role in this attack. From The Protagonist’s point of view, he is going in thinking it’s a standard CIA mission. He knows that he and a group of special ops are tasked with going to the opera house and meeting up with a group of private Ukrainians to survey the building. Their mission is to save and escort The Well-Dressed Man, and then bring him and the package back to base. Remember, at this point they are basically told to suspect and trust no-one inside the opera house besides the WDM, which makes sense. The Ukrainian SWAT is called in when the terrorists start the attack, and they think it is indeed just a terrorist attack that they need to stop. With this, it can be assumed that the Ukrainian SWAT is NOT in on the attack or following any orders from the high official. From Sator’s POV, he has been informed, (how is unknown) that the Plutonium piece of the Algorithm is in the hands of The Well-Dressed Man, and this man will be attending a performance at the Kiev Opera House on the 14th. Through posterity or through the same intel the CIA received, Sator knows that there will be a terrorist attack at the opera house on the 14th. This sets Sator’s plan in motion. Sator uses a group of his men to disguise themselves as Ukrainian soldiers. These men are then split into two groups. The first group is tasked with capturing the WDM and the Plutonium. The second group is tasked with planting bombs around the auditorium that will blow up the cheap seats, thus covering their tracks and destroying evidence linking their group to any part in the attack. The terrorists true affiliation is the most vague. To me, I don’t really think we the audience are supposed to know who they are officially with. It’s very possible they could be working for Sator, or they could be working for the Ukrainian high official, or they could just be independent terrorists who also happen to be after the WDM (remember, their attack on the opera house the same day of the WDM’s exchange cannot be a coincidence). Each theory is just as equally possible, believe me I’ve broken down each one, so it’s best to just leave them as a vague group of bad guys after the WDM and the Plutonium. Now let’s get to the attack itself: the terrorists storm the auditorium and immediately take the audience hostage. The Ukrainian SWAT is notified, and that gives the CIA team the signal that it’s time to move in. It’s also important to note that TP seems to be suspicious of the Ukrainians in the van. Remember, he’s taking “trust nobody” very seriously, even outside the opera house. The CIA team breaches and blends in with the Ukrainian SWAT with the intent of reaching The Well-Dressed Man, protecting him, securing the package, and bringing him and the package back to the CIA. TP reaches the WDM and immediately takes out the high official. TP and the WDM exchange code words, now knowing they are both CIA. TP states, “You’ve been made, this siege is a blind for them to vanish you.” Remember, in TP’s eyes he is following CIA intel and suspects the attack was orchestrated against the WDM (regardless of which parties are actually involved). By then saying “But I established contact,” the WDM clearly expresses his confidence that he was in with the high official so there’s no way his cover could have been blown, that there’s no way anyone else found out about the exchange, and that even the exchange itself had already took place smoothly. TP then states, “bring you in or kill you, I have two minutes, make up your mind.” TP says this because he suspects the SWAT are coming to kill the WDM. Because he is disguised as SWAT, TP would have no choice but to kill the WDM to prevent his cover from being blown. WDM agrees, and they then swing down to the auditorium where TP notices SWAT members planting bombs (remember, these are actually Sator’s men, as were the group of SWAT who were gunning down terrorists in the hallway and making their way to the WDM). His suspicions with the Ukrainians are confirmed, and he also decides not to trust the private Ukrainians in the van anymore. Because of this, TP has WDM swap clothes with one of the other CIA guys (who in TENET’s screenplay is nicknamed Target). This is done so the WDM can safely escape with the rest of the CIA team, through the sewers, with the package, and make it back to base. TP and Target can then collect the bombs, save the audience, and make it back to the van to confront the Ukrainians (remember, TP and the CIA team know the Ukrainians in the van are expecting a passenger). They do most of this successfully, but there is one problem... The Ukranium guys in the van are also secretly working with Sator, and they were just pretending to be private Ukrainian ops helping the CIA survey the opera house. These Sator mercenaries knew that the CIA team were going to go in and try to rescue the WDM and secure the Plutonium, and if they did, they would come back to the van with the WDM and Plutonium as discussed. The mercenaries thought that in this case, they would then be able to kill the CIA team, and secure the Plutonium for Sator. Though, as mentioned earlier, TP noticed the SWAT traitors and switched the WDM with Target. When the two go back to the van, the mercenaries instantly realize Target is not the WDM, resulting in them getting attacked, leading to the train-yard sequence. Once you know the guys at the train-yard are Sator’s men, the rest of it becomes pretty clear. Sator’s men interrogate TP and Target to find out where the CIA team along with the “package” is, but TP ends up taking Target’s cyanide pill. Though, it turns out this pill is a fake (it actually acts as a sedative) that was given to Target by TENET, who had distributed these pills to large sums of operatives to test them for recruitment into TENET. When it comes to how the Plutonium ends up back in Ukraine’s hands, this is something that isn’t explained. Though, this is how I think it went down: So when Agent and the WDM swap clothes, Target and TP go back to the auditorium to collect the bombs and so on, while the WDM and the rest of the CIA team take the sewer tunnels to escape safely with the Plutonium. My take on it is that the remainder of Sator’s SWAT tracked down and followed the CIA team through the tunnels, leading to a shootout outside of the opera house. I think Sator’s men killed the entire CIA team, and just when they were about to recover the Plutonium, the real Ukrainian SWAT showed up due to the commotion. I think another shootout took place, but this time Sator’s men were able to escape but couldn’t take the Plutonium with them. This led to the Ukrainians recovering the Plutonium and transporting it to a long-term nuclear storage depot in Trieste for safe-keeping.
Taking place in the 1950s and 1960s, The Queen's Gambit follows the rise of Beth Harmon through the ranks of the chess world, beginning with matches against her orphanage's janitor in the basement and culminating in defeating the world champion Borgov in Moscow (during the Cold War, mind you!).
Chess is only one theme among many. Harmon goes through her life without biological parents, getting adopted by a manipulative mother and a father who leaves soon thereafter, a few friends, one of whom is from the orphanage and the others through chess. She struggles with addiction to alcohol and anti-anxiety medication (librium) that she became dependent on at the orphanage. She first feels love and eventually has emotionless one-night stands with friends. She is subject to the bright spotlight that world-class chess players experience, in addition to an even brighter one due to her being a world-class female chess player.
I see a few parallels between the chess board and Harmon's loneliness in life. In chess, you and your pieces are all alone—no one else can help and all moves directly help or hurt your cause. This principle can be applied to some people's lives: they are all alone (no parents or others to help them) and all decisions improve or worsen their lives. Harmon had no one to blame for her wins or losses, in both chess and life. She chose to take the librium regularly (this is arguable, as she was a young child and addiction to a feeling like that is a powerful thing), she chose alcohol and benders over continuing to play, etc. On the flip side, there are some things in both you can't control: your opponent's moves and other's moves, respectively. In her first match against Watts, she is ill-prepared and experiences her first loss ever. Yet there is little to nothing she could have done. Sure, more preparation would do some good, but part of chess is knowing how to respond to certain setups and moves, resulting in sometimes losing due to holes in your knowledge. The important aspect is learning from the loss and applying those lessons into preparation for future games, a principle that can easily be applied to life in general: lose → learn → apply → lose → ... → win. Rinse and repeat as needed for specific applications and until you stop losing.
In regards to reception, quite a few high-profile players have supported the series. Chess.com even released a Beth Harmon bot, allowing challengers to play her at ages 8, 9, 10, 15, 17, 20, 22, all with their respective ratings.
The acting is good on all fronts.
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