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MIDNIGHT HORROR - DEMON HOUSE (2018) - FILM REVIEW

Demon House (2018)




Paranormal investigator Zak Bagans documents the most authenticated case of possession in American history.

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Zak Bagans, host of the Travel Channel series “Ghost Adventures,” is in the ghost-believing business—his livelihood depends on viewers thinking that the supernatural exists, somehow. He takes that passion to the film world with the documentary “Demon House,” in which he thinks he has the Big Kahuna of ghost story opportunities: a crumbling house in Gary, Indiana that has been written about in various outlets for its demonic activity, and might even have a portal to hell in the basement. Purchasing the house right before he brings a crew to Indiana, Bagans essentially hopes the estate will help prove that ghosts are real, a goal that “Demon House” assuredly falls short of, and then some. 



So that you don’t have the same nagging curiosity that I did while first watching it, I can verify that this is a documentary by form and not just a post-“The Blair Witch Project” found footage con. The truth to the supernatural events in Gary is still nonetheless difficult to pin down, however much sensationalized journalism they inspired, but Bagans knows who he can use to corroborate his adventure: a woman like Latoya Ammons, whose children expressed different episodes of being possessed, a superstitious police officer, a priest who does exorcisms, etc. Experts are not consulted, nor are any party-pooping skeptics invited. It's telling that "Demon House" features a real-life exorcism, but it feels more superficial than supernatural. 
“Demon House” in part has Bagans collecting previous accounts about the house's goings-on, complementing them with goofy reenactments that provide anti-tension, especially when it comes to scenes of the Ammons kids freaking out with their eyes rolling to the back of their heads, or screaming in a strange voice. But the bad spirits, or so Bagans and company would like you to think, are ever present, and “Demon House” offers first-hand accounts of him and his crew capturing strange sounds, filming a shadow in a doorframe, or seeing rising levels of magnetism in the basement, etc. Sometimes there's even surveillance footage of himself or others seemingly briefly possessed. With little filmmaking tact other than trying to prove he’s right, it amounts to a hammy enterprise, like his numerous unfortunate freeze frames that create accidental punchlines whenever someone says something ominous. 
Happenings do get stranger as Bagans’ investigation continues, offering a fleeting hope that this could be the rare horror documentary that’s actually scary. Bagans’ cameraman Adam is later affected by being in the house, and a parapsychologist named Barry Taff (author of Aliens Above, Ghosts Below) experiences physical repercussions, or so we're told. (The kookiness of “Demon House” might have fared better if it were more a sociological look at people who believe this stuff, looking at it not from Bagans' perspective, but I digress.) As “Demon House” yearns to have its own real-life moments from something like a “Paranormal Activity” movie, Bagans’ film still offers plenty of skepticism, especially whenever it seems possible that it's only the bad acting from the child reenactments that's possessing Adam or Barry's dramatic turns. It proves to be incredibly tedious when you can’t trust your documentarian or even the possible true suffering of his friends, as they collectively inspire more of a “who cares?” than “who knows?” reaction about the existence of demons and whatnot. 
But it proves to be shocking most of all watching the doc that Bagans has at least 100 episodes of “Ghost Adventures” behind him. Aside from the authority he claims on-camera when playing ghost host, he’s a notably dull surrogate into these possibly supernatural events. His voiceover sounds tired, and his words lack even more spirit: “This is the case that really f**ked me up.” Followed up later by, “This was some serious sh*t that meant something.” And then his glorious send-off: “Like I said at the beginning, this story is cursed.” Maybe that shrugging nature is fair game in between commercial breaks, but within a feature-length documentary it makes him all the more a storyteller you can't believe, or trust. 




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16 March 2018 (USA)  »

Also Known As:

Демонический дом  »

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MY PERSONAL BELIEVES OF MUSIC ALL PUT IN A DOCUMENTARY - WHAT WE STARTED (2018) - FILM REVIEW + PERSONAL NOTES

A couple of days ago some people were asking me why I love to mix. When I listed to the music I am doing, when I am listening to techno and deep tech I feel freedom, I feel love, and I feel passion. I can be byself and just be with the music. Electronic music makes me happy, it makes me reveal stress and bad feelings. I feel so deep in love and life, I forget about my bad past and I am able to experience the best thing in the world, that I can fly. So I created this review and post to make you understand what is the story behind Electronic music, what it does to people and where it came from and where it leade and brings us.

What We Started (2017)




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Credited cast:
Steve Angello ...
Himself
Carl Cox ...
Chip Eberhart ...
Himself - Chip E.
Martin Garrix ...
David Guetta ...
Himself
Erick Morillo ...
Himself
Paul Oakenfold ...
Himself
Usher Raymond ...
Himself
Ed Sheeran ...
Himself
Tiësto ...
Himself
Pete Tong ...
Louis Vega ...
Himself


Who is the "we" in Bert Marcus and Cyrus Saidi's What We Started? This look at electronic dance music speaks of the genre's origins — in Manhattan disco, Detroit techno, etc. — in the third person, and incompletely; the interviewees we do hear from are mostly those who rode predecessors' coattails to fame and fortune. Nevertheless, the throbbing documentary tells enough of the story to show today's legion of David Guetta fans where he and his peers came from. Viewers who suspect this scene's superstars will be in 20 (or 10) years will likely remain unconvinced when the credits roll.

Opening scenes suggest the worrisome prospect that Started will focus exclusively (or mostly) on two dissimilar DJs: Carl Cox, the British house DJ who enjoyed a 15-year residency at Space Ibiza; and Martin Garrix, the Dutch wunderkind who headlined the main stage at Miami's Ultra Music Fest when he was still a teenager. Both prove to be fine company, but neither seems doc-worthy. Fortunately, they're not the only beat-droppers we'll meet here.



As the film approaches the 10-minute mark, it takes a break for a short look back at the roots of DJ-centric dance events. John Lyons (identified only as a "nightclub pioneer") recalls a time when bars thought they needed live music to attract dancing patrons. Who would pay to spend time in a club with just a guy spinning records? ("But what if the guy stuck his hands in the air a lot while he was playing?!," one imagines Skrillex suggesting.)
Obviously, people came out. We've barely heard the name Larry Levan, though, before the film has moved on from disco, name-checking Chicago's house music and Detroit's techno. You'll be forgiven if you get through these quick scenes and still have no idea what the difference was between these two spinoff genres; the film is mainly interested in following their influence to England and Ibiza.
Bizarrely, it basically ignores hip-hop's contribution to the art of the DJ — an art that would likely still be in the stick-figure phase without rap culture's influence. And it is not interested in the 1980s synthpop that had a similarly profound effect on the dance-remix auteurs soon to become stars. Instead of musicology, Marcus and Saidi focus their attention on the social environments in which DJs came to be the focus of attention: They spend lots of time with the men who found ways to turn the English rave culture of the late '80s into a very lucrative nightclub community.
Somewhere in here, what had been a subculture became the stuff of Spring Break and outdoor music festivals. Perhaps because it wants to play to both sides, the film's viewpoint is awfully muddied when it addresses conflict between traditional DJs — who know how to handle turntables, read a crowd's mood and do their thing for many hours at a time — and those who premix a whole set to a USB stick, hit play and just bounce up and down onstage. Does the latter group (which represents the genre's most successful entertainers) deserve our disdain, or have they developed some new art the old-timers just don't get? The doc's verdict seems to be that whatever draws the biggest crowd wins.

Aims to establish itself as the defining film of the electronic music genre. Through an artfully crafted narrative and stunning visual techniques, the film delves into the highly popular world of electronic dance music, providing backdoor access to a widely misunderstood, self-driven and well-insulated industry on its way to global domination. The narrative leads with the legacy of Carl Cox and following with newcomer, Martin Garrix, as the film explores the parallels between Cox's undeniable influence and hand in the evolution of dance music and Garrix's formation of mainstream genres and global fame.  

Pete Tong: WHAT WE STARTED will instantly capture an audience's attention. This is a film that gives an authentic voice to different generations of this movement in an unprecedented way and leads you on a globe-trotting journey that explores a dynamic and multi-layered industry. As someone who spent my whole career in electronic dance music, I'm very excited to be involved in this ambitious film that goes a long way to set the record straight on how we got here!




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March 2018 (USA)  »

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I KILL GIANTS (2018) - FILM REVIEW

I Kill Giants (2017)




In the opening scene of this movie, a teenage girl walks around in a gray-blue forest, seeking something. She finds it—a clump of mushrooms growing at the foot of a thick tree. She gets out a pocket knife and scrapes some of the green mold off of its top. Uh-oh—have the children of America been watching “Phantom Thread” and adopting its heroine’s stratagems? Of course not. After putting the red mold into a plastic bottle filled with red liquid, she puts in a Gummi Bear as well. This concoction, we soon learn, is “Giant Bait.”



Barbara (Madison Wolfe), the teen girl and the heroine of this movie, adapted from a 2008 comic book that was subsequently anthologized into a graphic novel, lives in a house crowded by obnoxious videogame obsessed brothers and presided over by older sister Karen (Imogen Poots) at first registers to viewers as a particularly avid devotee of D&D-style role-playing games. Although she’s not particularly keen on sharing her enthusiasms. Approached on a nearby beach by Sophia (Sydney Wade), a transplant from Leeds, England, Barbara pays back curiosity with rudeness before allowing that Sophia has a pretty name.
But Barbara is more than an analog gamer: when she insists that her life’s work is killing giants, she’s not talking about a persona that she adopts in leisure time. The rabbit ears that she wears as a kind of crown do not constitute a fashion statement. She really believes that the ratty purse she clutches to herself as she navigates, or fails to navigate, the banal troubles waiting around the corner of every school corridor, actually contains a giant-smiting storm hammer.
Why is this? A sympathetic school psychologist, new to the gig, Mrs. Mollé, is making it her job to find out. And of course Sophia is curious too. And Karen, who’s running the family for reasons we don’t get until about two-thirds into the movie, will get beyond exasperated before Barbara stops acting out.
In the meantime, the giants appear to both Barbara and the audience. They are somewhat formidable but also a tad familiar. The same could be said for the movie itself. “I Kill Giants” is the feature debut of Anders Walter, who has a reasonably deft hand with both fantastic and realistic elements, although for the latter he tends to steep his frame in gray to the extent that it weakens his climactic sequence, which, of course, takes place during a seaside thunderstorm of immense ferocity. (The town in which Barbara and family live is never named, although a radio report late in the film locates the storm’s vicinity as “Long Island.”) The source material of this movie pre-dates the novel on which the recent picture “A Monster Calls” is based, and the similarities between the two storylines are expanded upon what I’ve already revealed as the movie progresses. That the perspective this time is from a girl’s point of view rather than a boy’s is significant. At least it is in theory. The scripter is Joe Kelly, who, along with J.M. Ken Nimura, created the comic. It’s not a knock to note that the main creative talents behind the camera are male—the women of the cast are clearly imbuing their characterizations with what they know. But there’s still something about “I Kill Giants” that feels projected, a work more informed by empathy than experience.



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21 March 2018 (Philippines)  »

Also Known As:

Chasseuse de géants  »

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$15,100,000 (estimated)

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20 MINUTES - ALL TRAILER OF WEEK 12, 2018

All new Movie Trailers from the past week!  
00:03 Tag  
01:56 The Spy Who Dumped Me 
03:56 Hotel Transylvania 3 
06:30 Deadpool 2 
08:54 Sicario, Day of Soldado  
11:17 The Titan  
13:15 Action Point 
15:34 Show Dogs 
16:04 Under the Silver Lake  
18:20 Come Sunday  
20:36 Amateur  
22:47 Superfly  
25:06 Higher Power


FIRST CLASS HORROR AT MIDNIGHT - GHOSTLAND (2018) - FILM REVIEW

Ghostland (2018)




The story follows a mother of two who inherits a home from her Aunt. On the first night in the new home she is confronted with murderous intruders and fights for her daughters lives. ... See full summary »

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French director Pascal Laugier ('Martyrs') takes another stab — make that multiple stabs — at the horror genre in this English-language feature co-starring Mylene Farmer.
Just when you thought it was safe to move to an isolated country house filled with creepy antique dolls, dead bugs and way too much floral wallpaper, in comes Ghostland, a violently twisted take on the home invasion tale from French horror junkie Pascal Laugier.
Like the director’s gory debut, Martyrs, which took the torture porn genre to untold levels of unpleasantness, this taut — if somewhat corny — slasher flick once again features two young women subjected to all kinds of abuse both real and imaginary (though mostly the former) as they’re locked inside by a pair of first-rate psychopaths. Why any of this happens remains unclear, although Laugier does make some inventive narrative moves to render his Franco-Canadian, English-language effort more interesting than it should be. Still, it’s neither for the faint of heart nor the sharp of mind, which should turn it into perfect VOD fodder for most territories.
Following in the footsteps of fellow Frenchies Alexandre Aja (High Tension), David Moreau and Xavier Palud (Them), and Alexandre Bustillo (Inside), Laugier tackles the well worn trapped indoors scenario with a considerable amount of carnage, trailing teenage sisters Beth (Emilia Jones) and Vera (Taylor Hickson) as they move out to the boondocks with their single mom, Pauline (Gallic pop star Mylene Farmer).






With news reports of killings in the region, and an extremely menacing candy truck roaming the neighborhood (because, why not?), it doesn’t take long for the girls to fall victim to a prolonged and vicious attack right at their doorstep. After their mother is brutally sacrificed on the kitchen table, Beth and Vera hide down in the basement as a mentally handicapped ogre (Rob Archer, credited as “Fat Man”) and his witch-like guardian with an Iggy Pop vibe (Angela Asher) subject them to an array of cruel and usual punishment.
But wait — was it all just a nightmare? That’s what we’re led to believe when Beth (Crystal Reed) wakes up screaming a decade or so later in a comfy Chicago highrise. Not only is she a happily married mother, but she’s also a bestselling macabre author whose latest book (entitled “Incident in a Ghostland”) details the very incident seen at the start of the film. No sooner is this made clear then she receives a terrifying call from her sister, Vera (Anastasia Phillips), who still lives in that haunted house with their mom, prompting Beth to go back and visit the source of her trauma.
Another major twist is still in store, with Laugier jumping between past and present, dream and reality, to keep catching the viewer by surprise. The structure feels fairly novel for such a B-grade fright-fest — call it Last Year at Amityville — but it’s soon outdone by the litany of torturous scenes that the director piles on one after the other.
Like Martyrs, though with less gore, Ghostland seems single-mindedly obsessed with the idea of making young women suffer. In this case, Laugier subjects Beth and Vera to the ogre’s pedophilic sadism, which includes dressing them up like dolls, stroking them, smelling their vaginas to see if they are menstruating, then savagely beating and raping them on the floor. It’s all rather painful to sit through, with each scene teased out for maximum stomach-churning tension.
Laugier tries to frame — perhaps even justify — the nonstop nastiness through Beth’s obsession with the great early 20th century horror writer H.P. Lovecraft, who even makes a cameo appearance. But while the latter conveyed fear in his stories through suggestion and cultish fantasy, Laugier can only double down on the violence at every step, tossing in tons of prosthetics to show in sinister detail what a grown man’s fist can do to a girl’s face. You can’t exactly call that “Lovecraftian.”
Still, the director deserves a bit of credit for trying something different here — even if, for his second film in English after 2012’s The Tall Men, he could have brushed up more on his dialogue, which rings awfully flat. In terms of chills, Ghostland does however deliver a few good ones in the jump scare mode, with DP Danny Nowak and production designer Gordon Wilding contributing to the atmosphere of sustained dread.
Fans of Farmer, who was the Gallic equivalent of Madonna in the late ‘80s and throughout the 1990s, may be either amused or appalled to see their favorite singer beaten to a pulp, stabbed repeatedly and pronouncing her lines with an unruly French accent.


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14 March 2018 (France)  »

Also Known As:

Incident in a Ghost Land  »

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FOLLOW OUR LORD AND JESUS CHRIST - PAUL, APOSTEL OF CHRIST (2018) - FILM REVIEW

Paul, Apostle of Christ (2018)




The story covers Paul, portrayed by Faulkner, going from the most infamous persecutor of Christians to Jesus Christ's most influential apostle.

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The life of the crucial evangelist Paul has everything needed for a powerful film, but the filmmakers picked the wrong part of his life to dramatize in Paul, Apostle of Christ, a soupy, conjectural take on how the widely traveled proselytizer came to produce his account of spreading Jesus' word throughout the Mediterranean world.
Fourteen years after The Passion of the Christ, Jim Caviezel here returns to scriptural film fare, not as Paul, but as Luke, a younger Christian who tracks the older man to a prison in Rome and spurs him to tell his tale. Glossy and prettified enough to almost pass as Sunday school fare, this modestly budgeted Sony project has clearly been tailored to faith-based American audiences, who will decide for themselves whether to widely support this pre-Easter release.
The life story of Paul, formerly Saul, contains enough epic drama, significant characters, exceptional incident and theological magnitude for a multiple-hour miniseries. Instead of dramatizing his driven and adventurous life, the film mostly shows him in confinement in an amazingly immaculate, nicely lit and spacious dungeon.
Saul was well-educated, a Jew as well as a Roman citizen, a man who never met Jesus but, while the latter was still alive, aggressively hunted and arrested his followers. Saul's dramatic conversion to the new religion upon encountering the just-resurrected Jesus (a world-changing event weakly enacted here in flashback) spurred years of perilous journeying, and it's unlikely that Christian beliefs would have taken root to nearly the extent they did, or at least in the same way or as quickly, without his restless evangelizing throughout the Eastern Mediterranean.






The Paul on display here is an old man scapegoated, along with others of his faith, for allegedly having set fire to Nero's Rome. But while other prisoners are lathered up to become human torches, Paul suffers quietly at the Mamertine prison under the watchful eye of prison chief Mauritius Gallas (Olivier Martinez, striking an amusing succession of brooding Marlon Brando poses). A disgraced army officer, Mauritius detests his posting here and hopes to regain Nero's good graces by providing “proof” that the Christians were behind the blaze.
One of the primary axioms of drama is to show rather than tell, and it's here that Paul commits its cardinal sin, with Luke coaxing Paul through his extraordinary first-hand story. In and of themselves, the conversations between the two men are passably interesting and capably enacted by Caviezel and James Faulkner, the latter a very fit-looking prisoner. There's a half-hearted attempt to create suspense by having Mauritius confiscate the manuscript of the narrative, and yet more manufactured melodrama when the magistrate's young daughter becomes deathly ill and brilliant physician Luke steps in to save her after Roman doctors have thrown up their hands.
But all this Italian-set melodrama feels hokey, cooked up and, in the end, not what we want to be seeing. Much more compelling would have been a gritty and gutsy presentation of key episodes of Paul's epic journeys that changed the religious face of the world — his frustrations and triumphs, the adversity, the breakthroughs and Paul's undeterred compulsion to spread the word. It's hard to believe that such a version of the story would not have had a significantly greater effect on the target audience for this kind of faith-based fare; such a telling, if well done, could conceivably have carried enough dramatic and historical import to appeal even to a portion of the lay audience.
Instead, we have a monotonous conjectural melodrama for the faith-based crowd that does nothing to reach out to others. It does indicate how a very important seed was planted for the blossoming of Christianity, but is banal where it needed to be charged with passion and a palpable religious compulsion of its own.


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23 March 2018 (USA)  »

Also Known As:

Pablo, el apóstol de Cristo  »

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ARE ROBOTS STILL SUPER HEROES? - PACIFIC RIM: UPRSING (2018) - FILM REVIEW (IN CINEMAS MARCH 31, 2018)

Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018)




Jake Pentecost, son of Stacker Pentecost, reunites with Mako Mori to lead a new generation of Jaeger pilots, including rival Lambert and 15-year-old hacker Amara, against a new Kaiju threat.

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On a craft level, this sequel to Guillermo del Toro's monsters-versus-biomechanical warriors saga "Pacific Rim" isn't terrible. At the very least, it doesn't stint on images of huge things crashing into other huge things, as well as collateral damage in the form of cratering streets and collapsing buildings (and panicked civilians, who are shown racing away from the mayhem but rarely being hurt or killed). The movie showcases giant gundam, or jägers, fighting a new kind of kaiju (I won't go into details because it would spoil one of the film's only surprises) and, for variety, jägers battling other jägers. Younger kids might like it, and it's probably a safer bet for that age group than the "Transformers" films, which are strangely filled with racist and sexist images as well as a needlessly sleazy undertone.


 

And the cast is filled with actors going above and beyond the call of duty, doing everything they can to make their characters as memorable as possible even when the script (credited to four people) isn't lending them the support they deserve. John Boyega, in particular, saves long stretches of the movie just by being his appealing self. Ever since "The Force Awakens," he's been honing a screen persona that owes a lot to the late James Garner—a funny, cynical survivor who makes a point of avoiding unnecessary fights and keeping one eye on the exit at all times, but who also has a buried streak of righteous honor that surfaces during dire moments. He's operating in that mode here, playing Jake Pentecost, the pilot-turned-scrapper son of the original film's inspirational warrior-guru Stacker Pentecost (Idris Elba). But there are two major problems, and the movie never manages to overcome either of them.
One is that the whole sequel storyline feels like a sad afterthought to the original, which saw various two-person crews of misfit eccentrics overcoming their personal animosities and neuroses to become one mind, operate their gundam, and bash, smash and burn giant beasts who'd slipped through a dimensional portal at the bottom of the sea. To its credit, this sequel from director Steven S. DeKnight (TV's "Spartacus") doesn't just decide, "Well, the portal that we thought we'd closed is open again, and there are more monsters, so everybody saddle up," because that would've been as lame as the plot of the  "Independence Day" sequel. But what the movie does come up with has been built out in a halfhearted, clumsy manner that underlines the cynical nature of the exercise: a plot involving the rush to deploy jäger drones overseen by the shadowy Shao Corporation, which has been getting a little too close to the jäger brains that its top secret research depends on.
There are supporting turns by returning characters, including Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi), the "Pacific Rim" pilot who subsequently became an important world leader, and oddball scientists Hermann Gottlieb (Burn Gorman) and Dr. Newt Geiszler (Charlie Day). The latter moves to the center of the story thanks to his kaiju mind-meld in the first film. Now he's the co-chief of the Shao Corporation's drone development program alongside Liwen Shao (Jing Tian of "Kong: Skull Island" and "The Great Wall"). While Day doesn't have the gravitas for what he's been asked to do here, his oddball intensity is a welcome contrast with the wooden earnestness displayed elsewhere (Scott Eastwood's snarling gundam pilot Nate Lambert being an especially one-note example). An orphaned street urchin turned juvenile pilot named Amara Namani (Caeli Spaeny) is also regrettably indistinct—essentially a retread of Mako Mori with a few years knocked off her age, ready-made for big brother-little sister or surrogate father-daughter bonding. It's not the actress' fault that the movie mistakes gritted teeth and cartoon spunk for a personality.
Which brings us to the second problem: no Del Toro. Even at their liveliest, these performers can only do so much without the originator at the helm. The project lacks the purplish intensity and explosions of juvenile poetry that made the original "Pacific Rim" so distinctive, whether you loved or hated it. I loved it. In fact, I like to tell people it's the "Citizen Kane" of movies where robots smash dinosaurs in the face with boats. That film's feverish commitment to every detail of the universe it created was admirable. From the names and powers it bestowed on its machines and creatures to the thought it put into what urban life and popular culture would look like in a world besieged by kaiju attacks, there was no doubt that it meant something to the people who made it. It was the work of true believers with childlike enthusiasm for the absurd. Del Toro even believed in the themes of personal redemption and collective effort that were baked into the details of the jaeger's mechanics. He got high on his own supply, and not only was that forgivable, it was exactly what a filmmaker was supposed to do in that kind of circumstance.
Here, with a few fleeting exceptions, it feels as if the studio and the filmmakers just held onto a lot of the CGI programs they'd used to create the effects in the original film and decided to give them one more lap around the track for box office's sake, while making a point of pandering to the Chinese market that made the original film an international success after it did disappointing business elsewhere. (There's nothing wrong with that last part, of course—I only mention it because, once you've seen the movie, it seems like a far better explanation for why "Uprising" exists than anything supplied by the script.) The fate of the world has rarely been decided in as rote a manner as it is here, although I'll confess that the final act—a battle climaxing on the crest of Mt. Fuji, site of many a showdown in a golden era Japanese monster flick—has a flair for melodrama and grandiose imagery that the rest of the project sorely lacks. 







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31 March 2018 (Philippines)  »

Also Known As:

Pacific Rim 2  »

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DEADPOOL 2 - 15 MINUTES PREVIEW - EXCLUSIVE

Deadpool 2 (2018)



After surviving a near fatal bovine attack, a disfigured cafeteria chef (Wade Wilson) struggles to fulfill his dream of becoming Mayberry's hottest bartender while also learning to cope ... See full summary »

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(based on characters created by), (character) | 2 more credits »

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ARE YOU - READY PLAYER ONE (2018) - FILM REVIEW (IN CINEMAS MARCH 29, 2018)

Ready Player One (2018)



When the creator of a virtual reality world called the OASIS dies, he releases a video in which he challenges all OASIS users to find his Easter Egg, which will give the finder his fortune.

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(screenplay by), (screenplay by) | 1 more credit »

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In the year 2045, the real world is a harsh place. The only time Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan) truly feels alive is when he escapes to the OASIS, an immersive virtual universe where most of humanity spends their days. In the OASIS, you can go anywhere, do anything, be anyone-the only limits are your own imagination. The OASIS was created by the brilliant and eccentric James Halliday (Mark Rylance), who left his immense fortune and total control of the Oasis to the winner of a three-part contest he designed to find a worthy heir. When Wade conquers the first challenge of the reality-bending treasure hunt, he and his friends-aka the High Five-are hurled into a fantastical universe of discovery and danger to save the OASIS.  


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29 March 2018 (USA)  »

Also Known As:

Baslat  »

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Trivia

Christopher Nolan, Robert Zemeckis, Matthew Vaughn, Peter Jackson, and Edgar Wright were all considered to direct this film. See more »

Goofs

The book says that everything is supposed to fit in with 80's pop culture, but Tracer is clearly visible in one of the earliest trailers. See more »

Crazy Credits

After the credits finish rolling there is a final shot where the Warner Bros. Pictures closing logo has an arcade "Kill Screen" with 8-bit versions of Art3mis, Parzival, Iron Giant, Mario, Sonic, Ralph, Calhoun, and others walking around broken game stages. See more »

Connections

References Speed Racer: The Movie (1967) See more »

Soundtracks

World In My Eyes
Written by DEPECHE MODE (as Dave Gahan, Martin Gore, and Andy Fletcher )
Performed by DEPECHE MODE, VIOLATOR (as Pedro Arcanjo, Pedro Agusto, and David Araya) 

With the help of Van Halen’s Jump, Steven Spielberg’s Ready Player One launches its video game adventure story at full speed. The year is 2045; the place is Columbus, Ohio. Our hero, Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan), fills in the details while climbing past his grungy homes of his town, “the stacks,” where trailer parks are piled on top of each other sky-high. Things are so miserable in Wade’s world, everyone escapes to play in an immersive virtual reality game known as the Oasis. Its Steve Jobs-like founder, James Halliday (Mark Rylance) is worshipped like a god until his death some years before. However, before he left the mortal world, the benevolent creator left behind a series of games that would reward the winner with the Willie Wonka-like prize of the keys to his virtual kingdom.

That’s a lot of story to race through in two hours and 20 minutes, but Spielberg paces his movie to fly past the film’s explanations of events as quickly as possible. The conflict is straightforward and simple: our hero and his friends must outplay the corporate bad guys led by Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn) and beat him to the three keys that would control the game. Some scenes are just too bloated with with trivia to have any real weight. The information isn’t given in a casual, conversational way, but in a pretentious manner, as if they’re trying to impress you with minutiae.
The Ernest Cline novel on which its based on is perhaps best known for its many pop culture references. The film follows suit with a soundtrack filled with an upbeat selection of greatest hits from the 80s, with a few interlopers from the 70s. The deepest cut is perhaps Prince’s I Wanna Be Your Lover, but the rest are songs you likely know the lyrics to. It’s tragic that all history of pop culture post-1989 seems to have been lost, but anyone who remembers the 80s may feel nostalgic spotting artifacts from their past. A DeLorean! There’s Batman! That’s the … Holy Hand Grenade? There’s even a few nods to Spielberg’s movies, like when a T-Rex chases a car in Jurassic Park. It’s easy to get distracted by these cameos on the edge of the story.

The film mimics video games’ weightless camera, creating a floating point of view around fight scenes and chase scenes. While thrilling to watch, it’s a style that left me queasy from motion sickness. The spinning is sometimes so fast, it’s tough to figure out which player is winning or who is fighting who. With too much movement, momentum is lost. The audience has to regain its footing in the story before running off towards the finish line.
While the movie is visually whimsical with its design and neon colors, the weakness of the source material still pokes out. Plot holes remain, despite screenwriter Zak Penn and Spielberg’s efforts to liven up the visuals and punch up the dialogue. I’m not sure I have a great understanding of how the game mechanics are supposed to work. If movement is required to move an avatar in the game, how do people play in the Oasis while standing in their living rooms?
For a movie about the hero’s journey, there’s no arc for any of the characters. They’re all already heroes, the big bad is evil from start to finish. Sheridan isn’t given enough to act on. Wade and his team-mates are almost interchangeable, save for a few differences in height and race. The grown-ups seem to enjoy their roles a bit more than the very serious group of young gamers. Mendelsohn has some fun playing a slippery villain, and Rylance is reliably childish as the Wonka/Jobs hybrid.

Unfortunately, Ready Player One has a noticeable girl problem: it can’t see female characters as just other people. For as skilled and resourceful as Art3mis/Samantha (Olivia Cooke) is, her avatar is that of an impossible pixie dream girl – a creature with a svelte body, anime-inspired big eyes, weapons training and the person who knows and loves almost every reference Wade makes. Of course, she’s damaged with a birthmark on her face, and he’s the only nice guy who can see that she’s truly beautiful. Samantha is the artificially programed Eve to Wade’s Adam, but worse because she never gets the chance to sin.
Those who come away cheering for Ready Player One will likely have enjoyed the film’s many references, the story’s breakneck speed and playful visual design. Others may want to unplug from the paint-by-number characters and shallow plot. The film has much to say about our present-day fixation on nostalgia. So many characters pine to go back to their 80s future, but some of us want to see what’s next. There’s no leveling up or cheat codes that can help with that.


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