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Colin Farrell does everything the film requires him to do. Some would say that his character is not very compelling, but compelling characters are not the point of Science Fiction. We don't watch 2001 because we're enthralled by Dave Bowman as a deeply moving and interesting person. We watch it for the aspects that make it good SF: scope, theme, and aesthetic depth. And The Lobster delivers with David (Farrell) as our guide.

That's the thing viewers and hopeful film-lovers need to wrap their heads around: SF movies aren't meant to be character studies. Her (2013) is an excellent exception to this rule, but even Theodore isn't the subject of the film. It's about love in the age of post-industrialization and postmodernism, and if that's not some barebones Science Fiction fodder, you can stop reading now. In many ways, Her makes an excellent pairing with The Lobster, as they share a basis of topic, and I recommend watching them closely together as I did. Colin Farrell portrays a pawn in the greater game of Lanthimos' social experiment, and he does so in a way that fulfills all necessary standards without trying too hard. And if you disliked the film due to a hatred of his character, you're probably too obsessed with character development anyways.

Another fantastic element of this movie is the storytelling. It's extremely visual, just the way it should be. One can gather a myriad of details and emotions based on the aesthetic and actions alone. The toaster scene in particular encapsulates so much about the first act, that one could probably understand the core ideas of the whole film just by viewing that single piece. And the character it features barely matters. There's also some fantastic set up and payoff, both comedically and in a plot-developing sense. If you track with the lady who likes biscuits and the dog, you'll see what I mean. I love the overall attitude of intentional interwoven symbolisms, a true aspect of any classically designed Science Fiction plot.

There's really not much else to be said without spoiling it. The perspective it takes on looking at modern romance through the lense of Marxist theory fascinates me to no end. It reduces love, like good ol' Karl did with history, to a struggle based in class. Proletariat and Bourgeois, singles and couples. A society obsessed with romantic absolutes will fail on a practical level because it does not allow for the mess of the human heart. Yet with such heavy thematic ideas, every comedic element is executed in its place in order to advance the story, and none is wasted on merely being funny for humor's sake. Around the second act, you could say there are a few pacing issues, and I'd agree with you, but an otherwise excellent film that really sets itself up and pays off.

Robin Williams shines here. In fact, most of the actors in this film are splendid. It's structurally sound by all standards of filmmaking, and the cute irony of Neil lying to his dad about playing the character Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream was especially fun. Things like that hit home with me as an English major. My collegiate interest in the subject means that basically every literary reference made in the script of this movie is from something I've read firsthand, which is actually the reason my friends have been begging me to give it a viewing. It felt good to watch this movie and reminisce on all my past readings.

All of that said, the ending fails. It felt as though everyone but Todd was a sellout. They all write Mr. Keating off for something he is clearly innocent of, and then turn around and stand on their desks at the last minute, as some form of wasted solidarity or protest. It seems to me as though the non-conformist message isn't clicking anymore. Not only this, but they only step into line with Todd's actions in their final act of defiance. Some unintended irony has occurred, and this is the most damaging kind. The writers sacrificed sensibility for some quick and easy emotions.

Along with a poorly crafted finish, the light into which it paints its literary material is too culturally modern. It seems as though Weir and Schulman allowed the 80s to define poetry, rather than letting the subject speak for itself.

I'm sorry if this movie isn't clicking with me, as my friends have so vigorously assumed it would, but I'm going to pass on the Dead Poets Society hype. It's a decently made film, despite some major plot issues. I could understand why many would appreciate it, however, the nostalgic hype may be a tad blinding here.

The Two Towers is the best LOTR film. It's more enjoyable than Fellowship due to its freedom to take more leaps in the overarching narrative because of pre-developed characters. And thanks to our prior introductions, the emotional payoff during moments like Gandalf's return and then subsequent charge at Helm's Deep can give goosebumps and take my breath away endlessly. Aragorn's complexity is laid bare and then simultaneously satisfied in a swift and gripping character arc, despite how it will affect Eowyn later on. Viggo Mortensen is the pinnacle of manliness, and young boys should take notes. The script is poetry, especially in moments such as Theoden's grief before his son's tomb, a sense of sorrow that Return of the King, and most other films about war, just can't quite live up to. Andy Serkis' schizophrenia conversations go beyond chilling. The Helm's Deep sequence far surpasses any large scale battle ever put to film, including Braveheart. Some would say the battle for Gondor in Return is the best, but I say that Jackson does a better job balancing the scale with suspense and payoff here. Sam's monologue at the end is cathartic, but in a way that still sets the stage for the next film. Even though Return and Fellowship are great, they just don't grab me 100% of the time I spend re-watching them. This is the one I put my phone away for, all the way through. Of the three, I revisit Two Towers the most.

When Leatherface pursues Sally (the late scream queen Marilyn Burns) in the darkness, I still feel the same euphoria and dread I felt the first time, even knowing what will happen.

Everything seems so natural, for good and evil.

From the first scene, the mighty Tobe Hooper (God rest his soul) already presents his sunny, raw and cruel universe, with a macabre and unforgettable image: tombs violated to build a sculpture of rotten bodies roasted by the sun. It's as if you could smell it.

And this uncomfortable and gross atmosphere remains throughout the whole film.

The low quality of the image, abandoned scenarios covered by dry brush and rotten remains of animals (and people), the suffocating heat inside that van, endless deserted roads full of dust, unfamiliar dirty faces, sweat dripping and sticking in everything, a huge scar on the face, drooling, conversations about animals being slaughtered in the most sordid details, the same knife used to cut a hand being used to cut a sandwich...

In the center of the horror we found a huge figure. Strong and surprisingly fast enough to always remain immediately behind his victim as he gripped his chain saw voraciously through branches, fences and doors. An instant horror icon and the dream villain of any horror director, masterfully played by the late Gunnar Hansen, a gentle giant in real life.

Leatherface is also super fast at dispatching his victims. The film makes it clear that if he gets you, it's over! Unlike his family of sadists who enjoy prolonging suffering, he solves things with only one blow.

You can't outstrength him, you will not get a second chance if he catches you and you will need all your energy and stamina if you want to outrun him. No second thoughts, just pure instinct and fast reactions if you want to live!

Sally quickly understands these rules. Her instinctive leap through the window is a proof of that. She doesn't give up even though she has to practically drag her legs to keep them running.

There are so many wonderful chase scenes! All extremely tense, either because of the darkness where you only hear the noise and see the smoke of the chain saw, or the harrowing proximity with which Leatherface follows Sally.

As if that weren't enough, we are still invited to accompany an unforgettable dinner with the Sawyer family. A scene that is referenced by several franchises, including in the recent game "Resident Evil 7".

The difference is in the unmatched nasty details like Grandpa Sawyer sucking on Sally's fingers, the camera's focus on her eyes in shock, the little hammer beats on her scalp that draw blood slowly...

The end is the icing on the cake. It's already morning when Sally runs desperate down the dirt road while her back is cut with razor-sharp blows and Leatherface comes after her at top speed.

A confusion of pure despair which ends with one of the most famous horror takes of all time: Gunnar Hansen rocking his chain saw into the air while the sun rises behind him. An unforgettable image that synthesizes the carousel of emotions that is this movie.

"The Texas Chain Saw Massacre", it's a movie you feel all over your body, twisting your stomach, sending a shiver down your spine, shrinking your face in pure disgust and speeding your heart to the sound of the chain saw.

It's impossible to buy the illusion, not only because she is a very famous actress, but also because the makeup is terrible and her silhouette, voice and walk remain the same.

Looks more like a bad comedy sketch (they even gave her a hilarious CGI penis and hairy chest!!!) but the tone is so dead serious that nothing works properly. It's a VERY strange movie with a very strange editing too.

Trying to adjust the tone, they even add some cartoons here and there to give a grindhouse/hq vibe but it ends up being another lame aspect in the weak production.

The dialogue is awful but Sigourney Weaver tries her best to deliver them in a proper way. Her dynamic with Tony Shalhoub's character is the only remotely interesting aspect in this huge mess.

Also, there's an excessive amount of nudity and sex scenes. Really unnecessary stuff and kind of disrespectful to Weaver.

"The Assignment" presents a horrible script that never finds the right tone and ends up being funny for all the wrong reasons.

The real horror is inside the protagonist Sophia, brilliantly played by Catherine Walker. The horrible feelings that she hides inside, including the crave for revenge and the emptiness, are nothing compared with the horror that would be finding nothing that could heal her wounds after putting so much hope in this last chance for healing.

The house used for the ritual is very well filmed. You are always guessing what is happening across the room or down the corridor. The real events are placed a little at a time, making the whole experience extremely suspenseful. The eerie score and the melancholic landscapes help cement the gloomy atmosphere.

They also did a great job explaining the ritual, using the necessary explanation to increase the tension, always emphasizing how important is to follow the rules precisely to avoid horrible outcomes, but without saying what exactly are the outcomes to maintain the suspense. There were some moments that reminded me of last year's boring "The Other Side of the Door" but much better executed.

Steve Oram does a good job playing this reprehensible occultist with a mix of creepiness and kindness that never let us comfortable believing in him.

The ending was very satisfying for me. There is a gorgeous scene (that some may find it tacky) that I really liked how classic they were with the design choices.

"A Dark Song" is a great surprise. A film that uses your imagination and your capacity to see strange shapes in the dark to scary you. But, at the same time, makes you want to see the bright side. You want to believe that a bright side is coming.

There are some positives: A wonderfully batshit Michael Shannon (that should be his legal name at this point) as the mysterious Mr. Green; a series of awesome cameos from actual funny people like Nathan Fielder and Illana Glazer; some hilariously realistic drug freakout scenes courtesy of Seth Rogen; and an honest (early) attempt to address how friendships can change, and why it's important to keep them. Oh, and it does earn its R rating.

But moronic subplots (steroids, wha?), repeated jokes (Rogen is a convincing and funny druggy, but fuck, 2 hours of the same gag), predictable reconciliations (a Christmas movie staple, but still), and a cringe-inducing wet fart of a celebrity cameo that filled me with the rage of 1000 Willie T. Stokes. Ba Humbug!

If was Santa Claus I'd be giving this movie a lump of coal for Christmas!

*puts on fuzzy black wig, fake mustache, and thick glasses, jumps on Honda Spree, does a burnout*

First, the good. Neeson and Harris fill the screen with so much middle aged gravitas you can almost smell the Old Spice and J&B Scotch wafting through the screen. Just two haggard legends playing tough guys trying to out-growl each other scene after scene. Even though the material is boilerplate (avenging a family, old drunks, lifetimes of bad decisions, etc., etc.) watching these two tear into this script is undeniably awesome. Factor in Vincent D'Onofrio, Bruce McGill, and Nick Nolte and you've got yourself one helluva cast (although I do wonder how much Viagra and Just For Men was used during this shoot and if it affected the budget at all). Solid work all around from the veteran cast (notice I said veteran... Joel Kinnaman is a TERRIBLE actor). I could watch these grumpy bastards inflict violence and spout tough guy dialogue all day. And the movie has that in spades.

Now, the not so good. I thought the direction was a bit of a mess. Way too many showy touches that kind of looked cool but seemed so forced (that lightning crash over the city looked like it was from another movie altogether). It also had a hard time deciding if it wanted to be a gritty, slow burn Death Wish style revenge flick or a glossy, propulsive thriller like the director's Unknown from a few years back. I didn't think it ever found the right balance - but I will admit it was never boring.

I also have to take issue with the car chase. What a disaster. The editing is laughable (overhead shots of busy streets, then a smash cuts of Neeson going 48 MPH through downtown) and the chase itself is completely implausible. I've seen The French Connection, and you sir are no French Connection. When my wife says "I have a hard time believing you can have a 12 vehicle chase through the streets of New York at THOSE speeds" you may want to rethink it. Not a big deal, but the sort of thing a better director may have polished up. Also, Common as a whisper quiet metro-sexual laser eyed hit man was so stupid I thought the movie was fucking with me.

In closing, even if you haven't seen Run All Night, you've already seen Run All Night. But so what? I'd take more "average" flicks like this over most of the adult garbage they cram down our throats. Despite its faults, my experience was an enjoyable one. Like I said, sometimes all ya need are the basics.

Most original though, was the simple (but life altering) event that provides the impetus of everything that happens. So often it's something extremely dark (or even outlandish) that drives these "revenge thriller" movies, but the subtlety here made it more realistic and far more effective. I really liked this choice and it almost feels timely. It's clever how that discovery flips the movie and how the viewer looks at the two male leads.

Solid work from the actors and workmanlike direction from Edgerton (lose the jump scares and he'll be fine) really pulls it together. This "gift" wasn't quite like getting Castle Greyskull in the 3rd grade, but it's a hell of a lot better than the corduroy overalls my aunt got me.

I'm certainly not "anti" Melissa McCarthy either. But her shtick is growing a bit tired and shoehorning her into the played-out spy spoof genre doesn't help. I feel like we've been down this road a hundred times before. The only fresh wrinkle was Jason Statham's character, Agent Rick Ford. I found his over-confident, know-it-all spy who can't do jack shit when it counts to be the highlight of the movie.

You don't need a Goldeneye to know this flick is a turkey! This movie should've been called Three Days of the Con-BORE! Getting through this movie was Mission: Impossible! I'd rather take a swift kick to the Thunderballs than sit through this again!

You get the idea.

The story itself is pretty straightforward. Maaaaaaaatt Daaaaaaaamon gets left on the big red planet after his crew determines he's a goner. But guess what, that stubborn son of a bitch is alive! Unfortunately supplies are low and a rescue mission is years away. I guess he's dead, right? WRONG! You forgot a couple things: he works for NASA and he's got a giant brain filled with science shit. Let's do this!

And really, that's all you need to know. It's Ridley Scott so you know it's going to be a visual feast. It's Maaaaaaatt Daaaaaaamon so you know you're getting a grounded and warm performance - he's like an old pair of slippers at this point. The script by Drew Goddard, adapted from the bestselling book (which I have not read), moves along briskly and is funny as hell at times. The supporting cast is great all around (shout outs to Donald Glover and Michael Pena who do snappy work).

But most impressive, it reminded me that I am still capable of enjoying "feel-good" entertainment (as long as it's done properly). Granted, it took a master of the sci-fi genre to make that happen, but I felt damn near optimistic when I left the theater. It was exciting to see a movie I'd be happy to watch at Christmas with my folks (don't laugh, if you watched Oldboy for the first time with your mom you take inventory of this shit!).

Sometimes the only profound thing I need from a movie is that it made me feel good. And that's exactly what The Martian does.

After a great cold open that really set the tone for the movie, we move to the small frontier town of Bright Hope. Here we meet Sheriff Franklin Hunt (Russell - like a less caffeinated, but still badass Wyatt Earp) and his deputy Chicory (Jenkins - fucking fantastic in a role that could've been comic relief nonsense), plus locals John Brooder (Fox - surprisingly effective as a racist dandy) and Arthur O'Dwyer (Wilson - solid, if unspectacular. Basically Patrick Wilson). Bone Tomahawk does a great job in these opening scenes of building character, establishing motive, and slowly ratcheting the tension. The comparisons to The Searchers in the movie's first half are there for a reason. Classic slow burn stuff that ALMOST makes you forget what kind of flick you signed up for.

The plot really kicks in once O'Dwyer's wife and a young deputy are kidnapped in the middle of the night. Given the time and place, of course Indians are immediately expected to be the culprits. But it's something far more nefarious - "Troglodytes!" Yes, those. A group of savages so, ah, savage that even other savages won't go near those, umm, savages. But as stipulated in the rules of any American western, a posse is quickly formed and justice is boldly pursued. And in MOST American westerns you know exactly how this song ends. The guys in white hats shoot the shit out of the guys with black hats and then sun sets while the main character stares off into the middle distance while some overwrought score blares. Not here. Definitely not here.

The notes of classic western fade and Bone Tomahawk quickly dissolves into a hellish pop culture stew of straight horror. A dash of Deadwood here, a sprinkle of The Hills Have Eyes there. A broth made from The Searchers with a little touch of Predator for flavor. The final 45 minutes has a real chaotic and dangerous feel to it and some imagery that is ten kinds of messed up. But the coolest thing is that I actually cared about what was going to happen to these unprepared Cowboys who rode out for justice. Great genre flicks don't always need top notch acting or developed characters to work, but here it elevates a trashy good time into something more. And this is a movie where a "Troglodyte" splits a dude in half asshole first, like a dry block of wood. That one is branded into the memory banks I can promise you that.

Anyway, great performances, solid cinematography, steady pacing, a script that balances drama and trashiness, and Indian monsters who shove molten hot flasks into stomach cavities - at the end of the day that's really what I want in movie.

*ties a roman candle around dick, lights it, chugs a Foster's, smashes it on head, farts, walks back inside and watches Fury Road for the 12th time while fireworks explode around his penis, smiles*

Directed by Denis Villeneuve (who after Prisoners and Enemy is quickly becoming my kind of hot shit director) and shot by Roger Deakins, it's the most beautifully filmed movie of 2015. The entrance into Juarez (a 20 minute sequence of absolute brilliance) is so rich and alive and menacing it's hard to believe a place like that exists just south of America. I cannot oversell the tension that scene crackles with. It feels like an eternity for the viewer. I wish I could drizzle it all over my body.

Del Toro is as good as you've heard (seriously, it's the kind of movie where his character could have, like, 10 sequels and I'd see every one) and the acting is solid across the board (Brolin was born to play cocky government meathead, Blunt does decent work even if her character is a bit naive). The direction and cinematography is among the best of the year, and there isn't one wasted moment in the entire picture.

However, the film doesn't necessarily teach you anything NEW about the war on drugs. But that's just fine. In fact, it's a relief. By this point we know what a cluster fuck it is down there and that the war on drugs is a waste of time and resources. The movie certainly reinforces those points, while referencing the hypocrisy and backstabbing involved with American politics. But what it does best is use that mess as a back drop for an extremely high brow ACTION FILM. That's right. This is basically Heat on the US border without a coked up Al Pacino talking about having a "great ass!" And that's the brilliance of the film. It's like going to a strip club AND reading US News & World Report at the same time!!!

Oh, it's pronounced Boo-SAN? Well, then, great zombie flick!

Lop off the unnecessary 20-minute set-up at the beginning and you have maybe one of the best zombie movies I've seen in a very long time. Seriously, this movie had bad-ass protagonists, fantastic zombie horde swarm set pieces, and a genuinely emotional father-daughter relationship.

The shot of the father's shadow at the end was beautiful.

I'm shocked (pleasantly so) that the zombie genre can still surprise me. GFY, Rick Grimes and company.

My one minor criticism is the silliness with the nail gun. Real nail guns don't work like that. "Well, Curtis, maybe the nail gun was possessed too." Okay, I stand corrected. I have no criticisms of this movie.

The beast is a bird-like monster whose conversations with himself are fairly entertaining, but unfortunately the rushed plot hinders the overall viewing experience. The two leads perform well in their roles, but I feel like the film relies on the audience to already know the story in order for it to resemble coherency. Frankly the most interesting part of this movie is how it explores the idea of women as commodities to be traded and possessed. Not sure it makes any sort of statement, but it kept me thinking.

At the center of this film is an American man who witnesses an attempted murder in Italy but is unable to identify any potential suspects. He decides to take matters into his own hands and launches his own personal investigation with his reluctant girlfriend in tow. In the meantime more half-dressed women are murdered while the protagonist gets acquainted with various pimps, artists, and antique dealers.

The best character in this film is far and away the computer used by the police force-- it's a whirring wall of machinery that occupies an entire room and its abilities are absolutely exalted by the detectives. Such a fascinating technological artifact. Second best character would be the effeminate shop owner who hits on the protagonist then tells him his murdered employee was a lesbian, but that he "couldn't care less" because he's "no racist". Aside from these few entertaining moments it's same old giallo. Pretty sure I can call it quits with Argento now that I've seen three of his movies and they all provide me with the same underwhelming experience. I don't find the plots or characters compelling after about half an hour; the films are kind of just colorful little detective stories or riddles with not enough substance for my liking.

If Ingrid moved all the way to L.A. just to meet me because of my Instagram, I would at least have the decency to show her the Dark Knight (which for all you know could either be the movie or my penis), and then give her a homemade lobotomy because HOLY FUCK GIRL.

#IAmIngrid

Probably, no, Definitely the worst movie I could watch immediately after moving to L.A. but that's alright, as far as movies about things going wrong for people that live in Los Angeles, I think I relate more to Naomi Watts finding two miniature old people who just want to tickle her. I saw that Mulholland Drive was on Mubi, so I might watch it again because I hate myself and all that is good in the world. Maybe I should do a marathon of movies about things going badly for people that live in L.A. Well stay tuned for that I guess. Or Not. I have no structure to my life. One might say I just go with the flow, and that is true if the flow is me crashing down a steep hill in my car, hitting every rock on the way down, finally going through the windshield and falling off a cliff covered in glass, into the ocean.

His job as a government assassin (which he seems so self-righteous about when he's arguing with Scaramanga about the difference between them) is to kill his target, yet he walks the full twenty paces in the duel. Whaaaaaaaatttt?

And the production is super cheap. During the fight in the dressing room, someone bumps the table and turns the mirror so the full camera crew is in frame. Continuity person: "Hey guys, the camera crew was visible in that last shot? Maybe do another take?" Director: "Nah."

I knew I didn't like this movie. Why did I watch it again? Why do I keep doing this to myself? Godfather 3, Rob Zombie's Halloween, this... What the fuck is wrong with me? Is there a name for this? Who has a copy of the DSM handy?

And, to think a short while ago I thought the countryside was boring and full of incest.

How very naive of me.

0/10 would not Marvel again