From the producers of Haunting of Hill House, an exceptionally terrifying series, comes a Netflix FLOP called Eli. Hoping for a good scare, I watched this TV-MA production on Halloween but was ultimately disappointed. It starts exciting but turns dull after literally ten minutes. This is yet another horror flick failing to deliver any substance: hollow characters, repetitive conflict, and basic jump scares. For Haunting of Hill House and horror fans alike, I suggest you skip Eli.
Reviews
5 Reviews
Terminator: Dark Fate
(2019)
FAR Better Than Expected: Hokey, Explosive, and Fun.
1 November 2019
I went into this action flick with unbearably low expectations but was overwhelmed by the epic action, surprising humor, and total badassery of it all. With tented aviators and gun in-hand, Hamilton returns with a vengeance as Sarah Connor. Meanwhile, Schwarzenegger plays an old robot living a sedentary life. The cult-favorites are back, delivering pure nostalgia through familiar verbiage and apparel. While Dark Fate is hokey, it serves as an epic throwback to its legendary origins.
Breaking Bad's Disappointing Farewell
31 October 2019
My first mistake was going into this film with EXTREMELY high expectations. But after six years since the Breaking Bad finale, this was the best Vince Gillian could do? El Camino introduces new characters we don't need while completely forgetting fan-favorite originals -- I'm being generous as this IS an addendum to Breaking Bad, arguably the greatest TV series of all time.
The Shining
(1980)
An Everlasting Cult-Horror Classic
23 October 2019
Stanley Kubrick's The Shining (1980) is an undisputed masterpiece and true horror-movie classic. The film is an adaptation of Stephen King's original novel published in 1977. Although faithless to the book, Kubrick's adaptation showcases literal and figurative madness from crew to talent. The revolutionary cinematography, genuine performances, and underlying tone of pure insanity make this cult-classic worth repeated viewing.
In a seemingly innocent exposition, Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) becomes winter caretaker of the Overlook Hotel, a secluded mountain resort in Colorado. He brings his wife, Wendy (Shelley Duvall), and eight-year-old son, Danny (Danny Lloyd), in what will be five months of 'fantastically cruel' isolation. Two weeks into his new job, an epic snowstorm barricades the family-of-three within the Overlook. Jack finds trouble sleeping, becomes infuriated with his family, and befriends an imaginary bartender. He succumbs to his hellish, erotic, and homicidal urges, resulting in a total mental collapse.
Unlike modern-day horror, this legendary film doesn't only rely on gruesome imagery, but ground-breaking cinematography. Once Kubrick learned of 'The Steadicam,' a camera accessory intended for smooth shots over an irregular surface, he stopped at nothing to obtain one. And unlike any film before it, The Shining took the device to new heights; effortlessly gliding the audience alongside characters, and throughout massive corridors. The extraordinarily long shots of Jack, Danny, and Wendy masterfully conveyed a sense of ever-following hysteria.
To further support the ominous cinematography was Kubrick's meticulously placed soundtrack music. The now-iconic scores performed by Béla Bartók perfectly accents the chilling weather, vast emptiness of the Overlook Hotel, and progressive instability of the Torrence family. The under-toned music escalates tension to virtually unbearable levels.
More so terrifying than Jack and Shelly's onscreen performance was their offscreen struggles. Nicholson, now triple Oscar-winning actor, frequently attributes his success to habitual drug use. And during The Shining's 1978-80 production, there was no shortage of cocaine. He later admitted to frequently leaving set to snort, inadvertently creating the perfect on-camera madman. In addition, Shelly Duvall's trembling fear and overwhelming vulnerability were genuine. Kubrick kept her isolated from the cast, cut many of her lines, and forced her to perform the iconic 'baseball bat' scene a record-breaking 127 times. In the later months of filming, she presented the director with clumps of her own hair, to bring awareness to his cruel methods.
For exactly 39 years, The Shining has remained untouchable and irreplaceable. Still today, Stanley Kubrick's cinematography is worshiped by industry professionals and critics alike. His strive for frame-by-frame excellence drove the talent insane, resulting in genuine on-camera mania. I challenge anyone to witness the literal insanity and cinematic excellence of The Shining.
In a seemingly innocent exposition, Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) becomes winter caretaker of the Overlook Hotel, a secluded mountain resort in Colorado. He brings his wife, Wendy (Shelley Duvall), and eight-year-old son, Danny (Danny Lloyd), in what will be five months of 'fantastically cruel' isolation. Two weeks into his new job, an epic snowstorm barricades the family-of-three within the Overlook. Jack finds trouble sleeping, becomes infuriated with his family, and befriends an imaginary bartender. He succumbs to his hellish, erotic, and homicidal urges, resulting in a total mental collapse.
Unlike modern-day horror, this legendary film doesn't only rely on gruesome imagery, but ground-breaking cinematography. Once Kubrick learned of 'The Steadicam,' a camera accessory intended for smooth shots over an irregular surface, he stopped at nothing to obtain one. And unlike any film before it, The Shining took the device to new heights; effortlessly gliding the audience alongside characters, and throughout massive corridors. The extraordinarily long shots of Jack, Danny, and Wendy masterfully conveyed a sense of ever-following hysteria.
To further support the ominous cinematography was Kubrick's meticulously placed soundtrack music. The now-iconic scores performed by Béla Bartók perfectly accents the chilling weather, vast emptiness of the Overlook Hotel, and progressive instability of the Torrence family. The under-toned music escalates tension to virtually unbearable levels.
More so terrifying than Jack and Shelly's onscreen performance was their offscreen struggles. Nicholson, now triple Oscar-winning actor, frequently attributes his success to habitual drug use. And during The Shining's 1978-80 production, there was no shortage of cocaine. He later admitted to frequently leaving set to snort, inadvertently creating the perfect on-camera madman. In addition, Shelly Duvall's trembling fear and overwhelming vulnerability were genuine. Kubrick kept her isolated from the cast, cut many of her lines, and forced her to perform the iconic 'baseball bat' scene a record-breaking 127 times. In the later months of filming, she presented the director with clumps of her own hair, to bring awareness to his cruel methods.
For exactly 39 years, The Shining has remained untouchable and irreplaceable. Still today, Stanley Kubrick's cinematography is worshiped by industry professionals and critics alike. His strive for frame-by-frame excellence drove the talent insane, resulting in genuine on-camera mania. I challenge anyone to witness the literal insanity and cinematic excellence of The Shining.
Joker
(I) (2019)
Todd Phillips' Unsettling Masterpiece
23 October 2019
Warning: Spoilers
Every decade or so, the perfect movie is made, a stand-alone masterpiece unlike anything before its time. And for appreciates of true cinema everywhere, I'm beyond thrilled to report that Todd Phillips' Joker is that very film.
Coming from someone who hates every superhero movie made, this is saying a great deal. Phillips, who directed a few of my all-time favorites, including The Hangover Trilogy, Due Date and War Dogs, has set aside his slap-stick comedy for a far greater edge. He took the wildly inflated, hardly realistic Gotham, and transformed the city into a terrifyingly beautiful reality.
And apart from its fictitious DC Comics origin, this film couldn't stand further from a superhero fantasy. Instead, we're dealing with a psychological thriller showcasing the failed life and career of Arthur Fleck.
Joaquin Phoenix, who in his unusual brilliance fits the role perfectly, has recreated the villain into a character all his own. Gone are the days of past jokers including Cesar Romero (1966), Jack Nicholson (1986) and cinema-legend Heath Ledger (2008). Philips's Joker is the first film in fifty years of franchise history to address the clown and clown alone, no batman in sight.
And rather than a God's eye view of his mental instability, viewers are hurled directly into Fleck's heart and soul. We grow attached to the traumatized child trapped in a grown man's body, the impoverished outcast longing for affection and the dead-beat seeking ultimate purpose.
With every day wielding a Shakespeare-grade tragedy, he inevitably reaches his breaking point. And as Fleck's prescribed antipsychotics grow scarce, his savage desires run rampant. He's been bludgeoned, degraded and mislead for the last time. He submits to the slums and, with glorious triumph, creates a legacy through chaos: "The Joker" is born.
Fair warning, this movie isn't for the faint of heart. Fleck's disturbing persona, clinically diagnosed laughing disorder and overall drear will challenge your comfort zone from start to finish. His nonstop tragedy is conveyed to such unsettling degrees, that one can't help but sympathize. And when he makes the first kill in a fleeting act of self-defense, who could blame him?
Initiating a downward spiral, Fleck's quench for chaos grows to immeasurable lengths. Law and order grows corrupt as the street-revolution turns vigilante. The slums picket for more violence and Fleck promptly delivers. He's psychotic and unstable, but arguably justified in his heinous crimes.
The Joker will make the moviegoer support a psychopath and demand societal equality for degenerates. It'll twist ones perception of higher-ups, resulting in ultimate support for the villain.
"What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treat him like trash?" says Arthur. A glorious film.
Coming from someone who hates every superhero movie made, this is saying a great deal. Phillips, who directed a few of my all-time favorites, including The Hangover Trilogy, Due Date and War Dogs, has set aside his slap-stick comedy for a far greater edge. He took the wildly inflated, hardly realistic Gotham, and transformed the city into a terrifyingly beautiful reality.
And apart from its fictitious DC Comics origin, this film couldn't stand further from a superhero fantasy. Instead, we're dealing with a psychological thriller showcasing the failed life and career of Arthur Fleck.
Joaquin Phoenix, who in his unusual brilliance fits the role perfectly, has recreated the villain into a character all his own. Gone are the days of past jokers including Cesar Romero (1966), Jack Nicholson (1986) and cinema-legend Heath Ledger (2008). Philips's Joker is the first film in fifty years of franchise history to address the clown and clown alone, no batman in sight.
And rather than a God's eye view of his mental instability, viewers are hurled directly into Fleck's heart and soul. We grow attached to the traumatized child trapped in a grown man's body, the impoverished outcast longing for affection and the dead-beat seeking ultimate purpose.
With every day wielding a Shakespeare-grade tragedy, he inevitably reaches his breaking point. And as Fleck's prescribed antipsychotics grow scarce, his savage desires run rampant. He's been bludgeoned, degraded and mislead for the last time. He submits to the slums and, with glorious triumph, creates a legacy through chaos: "The Joker" is born.
Fair warning, this movie isn't for the faint of heart. Fleck's disturbing persona, clinically diagnosed laughing disorder and overall drear will challenge your comfort zone from start to finish. His nonstop tragedy is conveyed to such unsettling degrees, that one can't help but sympathize. And when he makes the first kill in a fleeting act of self-defense, who could blame him?
Initiating a downward spiral, Fleck's quench for chaos grows to immeasurable lengths. Law and order grows corrupt as the street-revolution turns vigilante. The slums picket for more violence and Fleck promptly delivers. He's psychotic and unstable, but arguably justified in his heinous crimes.
The Joker will make the moviegoer support a psychopath and demand societal equality for degenerates. It'll twist ones perception of higher-ups, resulting in ultimate support for the villain.
"What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treat him like trash?" says Arthur. A glorious film.
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