Reviews

First of all, let me say how much I have enjoyed both main characters, as well as the cinematography and dialogues.

Rachel and Alvy, despite their flaws, were very believable and sweet people, so their journey quickly becomes relatable, even if we do not have parenting aspirations, nor do we live in a society that is as technologically advanced.

Speaking of technology, I love that it was represented in a way that feels like a slightly upgraded (or perhaps downgraded?) version of our own reality, instead of going over the top. Overtly futuristic aesthetics, such as in Blade Runner, wouldn't have worked in this case, so I'm happy they decided to keep it familiar. Kinda reminiscent of a Black Mirror episode in its non-pretentious approach.

However, unlike (most episodes of) Black Mirror, I think it lacked a further exploration of the topic, specifically the long-term consequences of growing your baby in artificial and supposedly advanced conditions.

We are told that these children have the inability to dream and that dreams, in general, are now recognized as an unnecessary addition to the human psyche. While it very well may be true, the question of whether we should rid our children of this experience in advance feels a bit more relevant than this movie gives it space.

It also begs another question: What else these kids may be missing out on? Story-wise, what's the point of introducing this subplot, as it ultimately does not affect the characters?

The same goes for social commentary. Some women agree with the new method of childbirth, others protest it, but we never find out what they have against it.

Furthermore, we see that the main company is very questionable in terms of the education they provide for children, and they even tried to remotely starve Rachel and Alvy's baby when they stole the pod. But, once the baby is born, it seems like our main characters are entirely at peace and have gotten over everything so quickly that they even send the pod back to the company.

Again, as we relate to our characters' journey, I was pleased that they got their happy ending, but the resolution of the main conflicts never seems to occur, nor are there deeper consequences of anything that happens.

"There cannot be separate objects or entities that have all their properties in common." This is a description you get when you google Leibniz's law, otherwise known as The principle of identity of indiscernibles. In other words - if it walks, talks, and looks like you, plus it shares your experiences, then it probably IS you. Whether you like it or not, whether you care for it or not

But it's just one of the few philosophical dilemmas Brandon Cronenberg deals with in this project. Perhaps the more important question would be how far would we go if we had unlimited chances to destroy previous versions of ourselves and start anew. Would we become better or worse? Would it even matter after a while?

If there is no god, then everything is permissible. Except in our modern society, there are multiple gods whose power is based on their richness. So their word is the law, and in the end, everyone's the dancing monkey, even seemingly scary government officials. And that's where it gets political and hits close to home, even though it's set in an imaginary country.

However, while the characters never get the necessary self-awareness to use their privilege for the better, this does not seem to be the case with Brandon Cronenberg. I'd say this is a huge step forward from Possessor, which relied too much on explicit content and the shock value. While graphic depictions of violence are indeed present here as well, this time they serve the narrative and psychological horror that is at the centre of the experience.

Maybe what sticks with me the most is the unnerving scene where Mia Goth's character is reading the review of the book written by Alexander Skarsgard's character, while she and the rest of the bloodthirsty characters taunt him slowly from behind his back. Makes you wonder whether this imaginary review is based on a real one about Cronenberg's previous movies.

Whether this may be the case or not, I think Brandon Cronenberg truly found his voice and I sure hope to see what's next in store.

Explore that ominous looking cave. Immediately. By yourself. No way there's some wild beast in there.

What to do if you're anxious in the woods and see an unnaturally mutilated animal?

Just chill, eat your lunch. Don't go to town. That's for weaklings.

What to do if you're anxious and your boyfriend has just been killed by an alien You're no anxious no more, now you're calm, plotting your revenge. Serve it cold. Throw that guy off a cliff. It's not like he's twice your size AND murderous alien.

He can't be killed?

Keep trying. If an action doesn't get the results you've been hoping for, it's gotta work next time. I promise. Don't go to town. Don't call authorities. That's for weaklings, remember.

What to do if you find a girl with concussion and memory loss?

Chill, take her to your camp in the woods. Don't drive her to a town. She doesn't need a doctor like immediately. Whatever you do, NEVER EVER go to town.

Some people die. Oh bummer, cause later we'll learn they've travelled the world. This is important, cause who'd care about them otherwise.

But at least the killer is a comedy relief, so that's a jackpot. Double jackpot, cause now apparently he loves you! Oh, and love is the most powerful thing in the universe. No one said that ever before. EVER!

Alien invasion, you say?

No worries, your parents got divorced. This teeny tiny invasion and impending Earth destruction got nothing on you.

Aliens have superpowers and advanced technologies?

Who cares? You've got your panic attacks. (Yup, they're back now.) But worry not, you're gonna use them to your advantage. That's gonna teach them a lesson.

Invasion still happened and the alien that can't be killed REALLY can't be killed?

Whaaaat? Who would have thought so? Well, I guess you CAN go to town now.

P. S. On a more serious note, I know how real and severe panic attacks are, and I'm not trying to downplay that. This is just a commentary on how they've been used as a superpower in this movie.

Two stars for acting and that little twist in the middle, before everything turns to a joke.

The feelings of grief, guilt, and entrapment subtly gloom over the characters throughout the movie. Intergenerational trauma and collective remembrance of poverty, depravity, and disease lurk behind every corner. But this movie is not just about feelings. It's more of a story about the stories. Particularly stories we tell ourselves to make sense of circumstances, both present and past.

Narratives have existed as long as humankind, and they have helped us gain control over trauma, confusion, and loss. Whether we seek them in religion, science, or art, their power persists through time and across cultures. They can heal or make us sick; they can put us in a (mental) cage or set us free. And after everything is said and done, they will persevere even long after we're gone.

Past is not just about what has happened, but about what we believe has happened. This movie is an artistic study of both psychological and anthropological effects of belief in the narrative. And it nurtures this self-awareness; at the beginning, we are reminded that we are about to witness a story. Nothing more, nothing less. Can narratives destroy lives? How about saving them?

That being said, I will explore a few of the main characters and the symbolism attached to each one of them.

SPOILERS BELOW:

Anna is a victim of false narratives. First, her brother creates a story to justify the unjustifiable and to persuade her to participate in the incestuous relationship. After he dies, the family falls victim to another dogmatic narrative; this one rooted in the misinterpretation of faith. Anna's parents are both abusers and victims. They've been taught that their children can find salvation only in the afterlife and that they're forced to suffer in this life. While they believe they do the best thing for Anna, their actions are actively pushing her to her untimely death. All because of a story.

Lib Wright represents the switch in the paradigm. Unlike Anna's family and the village community that blindly follows the preexisting narrative of religion, Lib is writing her own story. Her story is based on her observations and conclusions, as it is pointed out during one of her interactions with Kitty. During that same conversation, we are once again reminded that it is all about the different stories created through different perspectives. Lib is there to set Anna free from her cage, both literally and metaphorically. Even the nickname they settle with - "Lib" as opposed to the much more common "Lizzie" or "Betty" - is associated with liberation and liberty. Liberation is finally achieved as she creates a new narrative that helps Anna break free from the imposed guilt.

Will Byrne is, perhaps, the most straightforward character since, as a journalist, he creates the narratives - thousands of them, as we learn from one of his first interactions with Lib. And he seems to be the most aware of the power of narratives, as he continually reminds Lib that she's not to believe everything she's told. In one scene, he brings a gift to Anna - a toy that, when spun, creates an optical illusion of a bird being in and out of a cage. It is again symbolic of Anna's imprisonment in the cage of a narrative created through collective trauma. When she asks whether the bird is free or caged, Will replies it's up to her to decide, further hinting that taking control of the narrative is a necessary step toward liberation.

And finally, there is Kitty, whose voiceover we hear in the opening scene and who breaks the fourth wall a couple of more times throughout the movie. She's both a witness to changing paradigms and a storyteller that passes the narrative through generations and finally to the audience of the movie. When we first meet her, she's illiterate and as ill-informed as the rest of the rural community which encourages Anna's starvation. Throughout the movie, she gradually learns to read and to create her perspective on matters. The story we hear is neither Anna's nor Lib's, but Kitty's, as she's the bridge between the narrative stuck in time and the progressive view that Lib introduces to the community. In the final scene, she stares at the camera and asks: "In? Out?" It is both a question for the audience, as well as her reflection on what has truly happened. Anna died IN one narrative, which was necessary for her to get OUT of it, and explore other narratives.

I went to a cinema without high expectations, since I didn't enjoy Burton's latest work 'Alice in Wonderland'; however, I was pleasantly surprised. Sure, it isn't a masterpiece, or as brilliant as some of the Burton's best work, such as 'Ed Wood', but it was entertaining enough. I haven't watched the original series, so maybe I'm not competent enough to judge, but I must say that as a fan of classical vampire movies (and novels), I wasn't disappointed. Yes, it's a comedy, but not a slapstick kind of comedy. And, yes, it actually does have that dark Gothic appeal which is desired in this type of movie.

Depp delivers a standard good performance; however, there is nothing especially new, iconic or unique about it. In my opinion, Eva Green stands out and quite possibly steals the show. As for the rest of the cast, they all did pretty much impressive job, especially Michelle Pfeiffer.

Visuals are stunning, as usual when it comes to Tim Burton. Soundtrack is amazing as well: a perfect combination of Danny Elfman's original score and songs popular at the time.

*SPOILERS BELOW*

I expected this movie to be a typical 'good guy vs. bad guy' (or in this case 'bad girl') flick and one of the biggest reasons why I was pleasantly surprised is that it didn't turn out to be like that. Many characters are 'evil' in different ways and almost all of them have some dark secrets. Sure, Angelique did some pretty nasty stuff, but in the end the audience can sympathize with her (just as they can sympathize with Gary Oldman's Dracula). After all, most of her evil actions were caused by an unrequited love. In the end, Barnabas told her she was incapable of love, but I think that she proved him wrong by (literally) giving him her heart. On the other hand, Barnabas was almost as mean as Angelique. I'm not talking about him killing the construction workers and hippies; after all he's a vampire and that's his way of survival. However, I didn't think what Julia had done was so unforgivable and that he justifiably killed her. Yes, she tried to use him (for both sexual and 'immortal' purposes), but she did that because she was messed up and generally weak, not because she had genuinely evil intentions. Also, using hypnosis on a loyal fisherman in order to change his mind and having sex with Angelique to "save Vicky's honor" (what the…!) wasn't very honorable of him. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind Barnabas being mean, I actually like it; I just didn't see that coming in this kind of move.

I find the whole 'Carolyn turning into werewolf' thing somewhat forced and rushed and I wish they had more time to develop that subplot or to remove it completely.

Ending with Vicky begging Barnabas to bite her and him first refusing and then doing it when she's about to die kind of reminded me of those 'Twilight' movies (which I absolutely dislike), but luckily it lasts for only a couple of minutes and doesn't ruin the whole experience. And those who haven't seen 'Twilight' most likely wouldn't mind that scene at all.

In the end, I have to say that 'Dark Shadows' isn't a film that will stay in your mind for a long time or haunt your dreams, but given a fair chance, it can make you laugh and amuse you for two hours.

I give it 6/10.

I find this movie beautiful, intriguing, touching and somewhat disturbing. Pretty much artistic, yet appealing to different types of audience. However, most likely it won't be enjoyable for everyone, because of explicit content and perhaps disturbing images.

Director Lawrence Dunmore did an amazing job and created something that could easily be considered as a masterpiece. Johnny Depp gave a standout performance (one of the best in his career; he should have won Oscar for it), as well as Samantha Morton, John Malkovich and Rosamund Pike.

I've heard many people complaining how "dark" the movie is, as if it was filmed in shadows. But that's what XVII century was like - shady, dark and dirty.

One of the best aspects of the movie is both physical and psychological metamorphosis of the main character. In the first part of the movie we see a man who has everything, but values nothing. Most people around him like him only because he's well known, gorgeous looking and influential person. Those who do really know him, such as his wife and mother, truly love him the way he is, but he doesn't seem to care much about them As the movie proceeds he finds true love, that, as he said, teaches him "how to love life", but he becomes ill and everyone begins to avoid him. Ironically, the only people who are there for him at that point are the ones whose love he had never appreciated.

One could possibly say it's a shame that it hadn't been a major Hollywood project, because more people would have heard of it, but I think it's better this way, since it has avoided some of the boring Hollywood clichés.