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Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
16 September 2019
Slumdogs And Millionaires
12 July 2016
Star Trek 3: The Search For Spock
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I
mean the story for this film is pretty obvious I suppose, considering
the title is 'The Search For Spock'. Although I still think
that a better title would have been Star Trek 3: Finding Nemoy.
The previous film ends with Kirk
shooting Spock's dead body out of the Enterprise, jettisoned towards the
planet Genesis. It was the perfect blend of sci-fi, funeral, and
fly-tipping. Coincidently, the planet in question has an atmosphere
that apparently allows things to come back from the dead, which is
lucky. Somebody should book a flight to it for Lindsay Lohan's
career. Before Spock died, he conveniently popped his memories
into Bones' head, which was also pretty lucky. It was basically like saving
onto a USB a few seconds before your computer crashes. Kirk discovers
this when he finds McCoy acting as though he's been possessed whilst
sitting in Spocks bedroom. To be fair, I suspect that the odder of
Star Trek's fans have done
much stranger things in their rooms with their Bones.
The mission therefore is to travel to Planet Plot Contrivance where
Spock's body has been resurrected and plonk his memories back into his
head. Did I mention that Spock is a child now? No? Well, he is. The
planet brought him back as a kid because it somehow knew that Nemoy
was directing and wanted to save him the job of acting too. Honestly,
this planet is so useful. If only it had written the script to the
first fucking movie too!
So was it shit or not then?
With
this, it was as though they'd turned my dead Granddad into a movie. I didn't love it, but you know.. I didn't hate it. The biggest problem
that the film really has is that it seems to exist exclusively as a
way of un-doing all the drama of the previous movie. Kind of in the
way that the X-Men franchise now seems to exist with the sole purpose of undoing the events of X-Men 3. The
main difference obviously being that, unlike X3, Wrath of
Khan wasn't a steaming puddle of
piss. Actually, speaking of X3, do
you remember when McKellen gave the shittest ever delivery of the
phrase 'what have I done'?! Well, it turned out that Shatner actually
had him beat all along. Kirk witnesses the Enterprise explode and
attempts that line with the same level of bored emotion that I have when holding a conversation with my family. Having said that, it's kind of a shame that
Shatner has now descended into tedious self-parody because he's
actually pretty good in these. Well, there is another moment in which
he reacts to the death of his son in the style of Jim Carrey shitting
his pants, but I guess nobodies perfect.
I did like this film too, to a degree. I was really excited to finally
see the Klingons and even more excited when I found out that the main
one was an angry Christopher Lloyd looking like he'd smeared himself
in shit and then rolled about on a barbershop floor. It was fun
watching the young Spock grow up over the course of ninety minutes
too which is something that the average Star Trek fan hasn't managed in up to
fifty fucking years. The theme of movie is regarding how far friends
will go for each other and here we learn that if one friend assumes
another friend is dead and then finds out that he was wrong... he'll
go and pick him up. I'd like to think that I have friends that would do
that for me. So poignant.
30 March 2015
Flying High
The
worst flight I've ever been on was when I was blackmailed into going to
Greece for my dad's second wedding. I travelled with my nan and aunt
on a plane full of horny teenagers who were all excited for the
non-stop partying that they were presumably about to enjoy. I was only
in my early twenties but after my two family members, I was easily the
third oldest person on board
by some fucking years. Imagine arriving at a rave with your nan and not
being able to leave because the only exit was a ten thousand foot drop
and that's exactly what it was like. They were loud, drunk, annoying, and
I'm pretty sure that the two in front of us were basically shagging.
I'm not exactly a people-person at the best of times and so this was
literally my worst nightmare. I promise you that for the few hours we
were in the air I was praying for something to go wrong to shut these
fuckers up. Just one massive explosion and the noisy bastards would have
been blasted out and burnt up in the atmosphere! Obviously I'd have
been killed too but it would have been worth it. Like a martyr for the
misanthropes, I'd have died fucking happy.
9 March 2015
A Bad Book
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Is it just me or does it seem unfair to
refer to a single parent family as 'broken'? Sure, single mums
sometimes get stressed and drown their children in the bath, but
that's not to say a couple with a kid is any better. I'm from a
single parent family and to be honest I prefer it to when my parents
were together. Some people just aren't right for one another and
before my Mum moved out I wasn't allowed to stay up late, so I can't
say I was too arsed. If anything was upsetting, I suppose it was the
inevitable custody battle where parents fight over who gets to keep
their child. It's not that I felt torn between the two but rather
that it simply never happened, as both sides were happy to leave me
with the other. Bastards! It was a shame too as not only was my
loyalty up for the highest bidder but I think a large scale game of
'Who Loves Me The Most' would have done wonders for my confidence.
Sure I was almost in my twenties by the time they got divorced but
fuck them it'd still have been nice.
30 June 2014
Fight Your Guts Out
17 March 2014
I Approve Of This Union
Here's a quick test to work out how you'll
feel about The Grand Budapest Hotel... Did you like the last film you
saw by director Wes Anderson? If ‘no’ then I wouldn't expect you to like this
one either. I mean, I don't like trifles and so when I'm presented with a new
one it's not that I won't like it but rather I suppose that the odds just
aren't in my favour. You can change all the little details such as the type of
jelly and all that shit but at the end of the day you’re still only left with a
trifle. If however you went for the correct answer of yes then congratulations
because you are in for a hell of a treat. This film is the magnus opus of
Anderson's puddings made by a chef at the top of his game and with such a
confidence in his own recipe that it's the purest and most expertly crafted
trifle that you'll have ever tasted. If you like trifles then you will
seriously love this film. Wait… what? Oh- I'm talking bollocks. Just, err...
Well, to put it bluntly, The Grand Budapest Hotel is fucking phenomenal!
The film starts with a young girl opening a
book near a monument dedicated to its author. The film starts with that author
talking about his life. The film starts in the 1960's with the author as a
younger man in a hotel and chatting to its current owner. The film starts with
that owner as a younger man in the 1930's when he began his tutorage as a lobby
boy under the current concierge, Mr. Gustave. The film starts... the film
starts with a lot of fucking openings. The stuff in the 30's seems to take the
bulk of it though with Gustave running The Grand Budapest Hotel with the
precise efficiency of an obsessive watchmaker suffering from a bad case of the
autism. He attends to all his clients’ needs ensuring that everybody has a
pleasant stay and that all of his staff are at the absolute top of their game.
Also because he's a true British gent, Gustave takes special care of some of
his older female visitors by paying them a little extra attention and then
occasionally fucking them stupid. Sadly, the sudden murder of his one favourite
dodderer disrupts everything when it's revealed that she'd left him some
significant inheritance in gratitude for fiddling with her leathery old lady
wallet. As the main suspect, Gustave and his lobby boy then go on the run in a
land that's so stylised it's like boiling Wes Anderson's brain on a rusty spoon
and then injecting it straight into your fucking eyes. This is some good
shit...
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| With pleasure, M. With pleasure. |
I'm a huge fan of the James Bond franchise to the point that I
once had a dream where, by sheer coincidence, I happened to meet both Sean
Connery and Roger Moore at the exact same time. I know full well that this
incident took place entirely in my own head but I still think it's a good
contender for the best day of my life. What a fucking depressing fact... anyway,
considering how many of those films there are, how important they've been and
how blatant their formula is, I think there's a genuine argument that the Bond
franchise should be classed
as its own sub-genre. At this point and having now seen The Grand Budapest
Hotel, I almost think the same could be said of Anderson's films too, to a
degree. Any single frame of any one of his movies is so impenetrably his own
that it's as if all he's done is stick a torch against one of his ears and then
project the beam out through the other and onto a screen. Whether this latest
film is his best I suppose is up for debate but at the very least it's
certainly the most Wes Anderson film he's ever made. Kubrickesque camera
movements, use of stop-motion, yellow titles, characters dressed up like
himself, precisely symmetrical framing and quirkiness coming out of its arse
are all more than present. If this was a Bond film it would definitely be his Goldfinger
in which all the elements of his previous films have come together with such a
confidence that the final product is a brick shit-house of his own unique
style.
However, like marmite, rap music and
un-consented titty fondles, Wes Anderson does seem to be a little divisive.
Whereas some people go into a full-on jizz-fit over his shit, others seem to
struggle to feel the hype and I therefore presume also find his style too
distancing to get into. As I'm guessing has been made clear at this point I'm
very much on team jizz-fit for his work and so I struggle to understand how
people can't like him. I understand that they think he has style over substance
but that's not too say he doesn't also have a lot of substance. People also
claim that his characters aren't so much characters as they are simply walking
quirks but my response to that is simply that it's just bollocks. I admit that
perhaps this might be slightly true of some of his side characters with Willem
Dafoe's psycho here being a good example of that I suppose. Although even to
defend that, he's no less a character than a million others like him in other
films... Perhaps the grizzled biker in the Coen Brothers Raising Arizona might
be another one and that has been scientifically proven to be a masterpiece.
Well, not by any actual scientists but certainly in my own head it has. I think
the silent nutter is just a trope that gets dished out now and again and so
what? At least in the case of both the Coen's and Anderson, I'd suggest their
use of it is done somewhat ironically. Take almost any main character in any
one of Anderson's films and I'll bet you that they're more well-drawn than
almost any you'll find anywhere else. Richie Tenenbaum, Steve Zissou, Max
Fischer and now Gustave H. I don't know what the rest of the year has in store
for us but presuming Russia doesn't nuke us off the planet then I guarantee
that Ralph Fiennes’ performance will become one of the more memorable of 2014.
Beyond his style, the written characters,
the crazy amount of amazing actors, the story, and the soundtrack however,
there are two other reasons that I love Anderson's films. Firstly they're just
hilarious and secondly they're also heartbreakingly sad... again this latest
one is no exception. Depending who you are, the odds are you'll think of
Fiennes as the noseless bastard who tried to kill a magical child or even the
fat slice of fuck who succeeded in killing a hell of a lot of Jews. The closest
he's come to doing comedy that I know of is In Bruges and even in that
the humour comes from how fucking demented he is. Here however there's a side
to Fiennes that has remained untapped as it turns out he's as natural at
performing comedy as he was being a hate-filled Nazi cunt. What a range! This
might be the most Wes Anderson film that Anderson has ever created but I don't
think it's my favourite with The Life Aquatic possibly retaining the top
spot for me. Having said that, I think Gustave may be my new favourite
character from all of his films which is quite the statement considering that's
contending with at least seven lots of Bill Murray. There's just something
about Gustave with his complete Britishness, his politeness, his sweary rants,
his appreciation of life's niceties and then these random fucking existential
outbursts that I loved. This questioning of life also comes back to the sadness
however as, like all the others, this is a film that's drowning in melancholy.
Everybody knows that nothing lasts forever and it's obvious that all of these
people are coming to the end of their relevance. In many ways, this really is The
Wild Bunch of nostalgic old hotel employees.
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| This film has everything from huge laughs to effective prison survival methods! |
So yes, as usual, Anderson's style is more
eye catching than a giant ballsack made of rainbows but so what? In our boring
world of the bland, why is such an obvious sense of identity such a bad thing?
Visually, I can't really distinguish between a Michael Bay movie and a Roland
Emmerich one and yet despite also being shittier than a fat man’s undercrackers,
they make a fuck load of cash. I can't tell from looking whether a film is by
either of those two men although if it turns out to be Michael Bay then I can
generally guess from the crippling pangs in my soul. Anyway, to go on a slight
tangent, I once spent a long time chasing after some girl who was clearly a
bitch and I knew it. To find out why I wasn't listening to my brain I did a
little post-porn internet research and found a psychological thing called The
Halo Effect. To sum it up, it's basically a disease of the mind that allows you
to like people you think are fit despite the fucking grief and kicks to the
heart they might cause. The girl kind of took the piss with me but I couldn't
just walk away because I'm a nice guy and she had nice tits. It happens. I
mention this because, to a degree, I think this Halo effect has sort of
consumed me for Wes Anderson's films too... except he's done nothing wrong for
me to need to ignore, I guess. I love his stuff so much that I struggle to see
how somebody can't like them at all. It's not that I don't agree with them,
it's that I literally can't work out what's not to enjoy. If you're one of
those people then please send in your issues on a postcard to help me
understand... Or better yet, there's always the comments section below.
Otherwise we should all just assume I'm right and accept that like everything
else he's made, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a fucking masterpiece.
24 February 2014
The Dreams Of The People Live On
There are certain films which, like the
genitals of an old French whore, should be left untouched. If anybody remade a
classic like Casablanca then they'd effectively be condemning themselves
to that section of Hell where angry geeks spend an eternity pissing fire into
their victims’ eyes whilst crying. For some people, The Wizard of Oz is
one of those 'untouchable films' with the original being very close to their
probably-quite-camp hearts. Personally I only got around to seeing it last year
which by coincidence ended up being the same week that Thatcher snuffed it and
the song 'Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead' made an amusing appearance in the
charts. I really enjoyed the film though and could more than see everything
that was great about it from the iconic set design to the ambiguous reality and
particularly the brave choice of having a sociopath as the lead character.
Seriously, watch it again and pay attention to just how many times Dorothy
kills and how little a shit she gives about it. She fucks people up whilst
expressing all the concern of a retarded cabbage with empathy issues and a
historically awful upbringing.
Despite enjoying the film though I suppose
I probably admired it more than I actually loved it. Therefore when I heard
about the prequel, Oz The Great And Powerful I really wasn't too arsed
either way. As far as I'm concerned, there's a load of books in that series to
draw from and there's already been a few other crappy movies to taint the
legacy as it is. Directed by Geek God Sam Raimi, this new addition aimed to
tell the journey of Oz, the Wizard from the original, as he goes from being a
barebones nobody to the fraudster leader of a bullshit world. Of course, like
anybody with eyes, I'm a huge fan of Raimi's and would more than donate a few
hours of my life to experience anything that sprang from his demented mind.
However like the extra bollock in an already crowded nutsack there was
something about this film that worried me. From the moment it was announced as being
a big budget update of an old classic, and particularly by Disney, I'm sure I
can't be the only person to get flashbacks to Tim Burtons Alice in
Wonderland... which at our politest I'm sure we all remember as being a
massive lump of shit.
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| "I hope to fuck this isn't Wonderland..." |
This film begins during the dark days of
1905 as a giant storm rips through the monochrome grimness of a dustbowl
Kansas. Oz is a selfish cock who performs rubbish magic shows to mostly empty
seats whilst treating his only friend like shit and trying to shag any woman
that dares to have tits. After unsuccessfully trying to chat up the wrong girl,
her boyfriend chases after Oz causing him to make the logical decision of
jumping into a hot air balloon and flying straight into a tornado. So although
he might not have managed to have sex that day at least he can still claim to
have been sucked off... also, I know
that's an awful joke but fuck you. Anyway, after surviving the ordeal he crash
lands in the mysterious world of Oz which is currently enduring a three way
power struggle between three controlling witches. Obviously he's got to defeat
them or at least the two evil ones... because you know... God help us be
subjected to an original story! However there is at least some degree of
mystery because although we know he does succeed thanks to this being a prequel,
we also know that he doesn't kill them. That's for crazy old Dorothy and her
blank faced murder spree later on. So I guess the tension isn't about how Oz
will kill his adversaries but more about how will he outsmart them. Also I know
that Oz the man shares his name with Oz the world he ends up in but I guess
that just a coincidence. Kind of like if Paris Hilton crashed in the city of
Paris, Orlando Bloom crashed in the city of Orlando or Rip Torn crashed in the
vagina of Lindsey Lohan. Urgh... that's two bad jokes in one over-long
paragraph... Fuck you again!
So if I was worried about this being
reminiscent of that shitty Tim Burton film then the opening few minutes didn't
exactly put me at ease. I know Danny Elfman has worked with Raimi a lot too but
because he's a musical slut, his work and sound is surely mostly associated
with Burton's movies? Well I think so anyway. I actually already tried to watch
Oz The Great And Powerful a day earlier but it just put me in the mood
for Big Fish so I ended up switching it off with the plan of watching
that instead. I didn't in the end because I got distracted by a row with my
stepmum but the point still stands. Also she's a bitch. Anywho, the Burton
references don't just end there as they also pretty much look like they're set
in the same world too. Every so often, Franco's Oz would turn a corner to which
I half expected him to find a ginger Johnny Depp performing the futterwacken.
Fact fans might be interested to know that the literal translation of
Futterwacken is 'to make a twat of oneself'. That's a lie but whatever... Both
films also take two classic films and then annoyingly build them up to a final
showdown in which armies are expected to clash. And in both cases the promise
of that battle sounded about as exciting as trying to toss off to a broken egg
timer whilst wearing oven gloves and crying.
On the bright side though, there is one key
difference between Raimi and Burton’s two films and it's that Raimi's isn't
shit. It's one of those movies that lives in the bland world... never offensive
and always teasing the satisfaction of something better. Although because that
satisfaction never comes I guess this is really the cinematic equivalent of
'blue ball'. Also, as much as it has aspects that are similar to one of Burton’s
more piss poor efforts, it also has traces that stand this apart as very
definitely a Raimi film. For a start there's its love of classic cinema,
slapstick and a noticeable use of kinetic, comic book style camera movements.
Oh and of course there's also the traditional cameo from Bruce Campbell who is
this time buried under a layer of prosthetics so thick that it was only thanks to
his fuck-off chin that I recognised him. Oh and if that wasn't enough I suppose
there's also the small similarity between the plot of this movie and of Raimi's
1992 film Army of Darkness as they're near fucking identical.
Both Army of Darkness and Oz The
Great And Powerful begin when a man accidentally travels from our world to
a fantasy one. The hero also instantly starts a kind of relationship with a
woman who, spoiler alert- turns evil as the film progresses. Although I guess
that's the logical conclusion of most relationships to be fair... In both
movies’ cases, the main character is also kind of a cock whose charm can be
found in their smugness and who seems to be the solution to an ancient prophecy
that predicts peace for the land. Oh and there's an evil witch in each film
with the two looking so similar that they could start a weekly support group
with Mark Wahlberg and Matt Damon called, 'nobody can tell us apart'. On top of
all that, the flying monkeys of Oz look remarkably similar to the flying
deadites of Darkness. Although sadly Franco doesn't kill his souring
simians by blowing their heads off with a bastard shotgun and then start
screaming that everybody's a “primitive screwhead”.
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| Hail to the king, baby! |
To kind of conclude, if you saw Jack The
Giant Slayer then this is pretty much on par with that. Actually, if it
wasn't quite so long it'd probably even be better. Oz the Great and Powerful isn't the Wonderland
shaped shit stain on Raimi's filmography that many worried but nor was it
worthy of his talents. In fact if you watched Army of Darkness and
wished it was longer, child-friendly and smacked of studio guidelines then
honestly you'll fucking love this! Kind of like Singer's Giant Slayer it's
just one of those films that was alright but not worth sticking an extra two
year delay on a great director making a film more worthy of them. If you loved
the original Wizard of Oz then this won't rape your childhood- although
at worst I suppose it's probably given it an inappropriate fondling.
20 January 2014
FatMan and Robbing
We have an idea in our head of who we'd
like to be seen to be, and so I suppose any time we're presented with options
relating to our presentation then we go for the ones that support that image. A
perfect way of figuring out what a person is about might be their clothes, the
way they've decorated their house or even the style of their hair for example.
Personally I have a ponytail which suggests that I like people to think that
I'm laid back whilst at the same time suggesting a hatred of conformity... because
a ponytail is an act of rebellion that's only slightly less clichéd than
getting a shit tattoo of a skull and listening to heavy metal music. Although
that is true, the other reason is that after years of battling with my shorter,
sticky up hair, I eventually gave up and disowned the fucker... He does what he
wants and I won't question it so long as he leaves me alone in return. Turns
out that what my hair wants to do when left to its own devices is grow. Who'd
have thought it?
 |
| Batman, Mystique, Hawkeye, Lois Lane.. and introducing Bradley Cooper as 'Pubehead'.. |
I mention all of this because it seems that
hair is the key to understanding the film American Hustle or to give it its
original and far superior title... American Bullshit. Taking place in
the late 70's and early 80's, the movie tells the story of a fat balding con-man
played by Christian Bale who, along with his partner Amy Adams, is forced into
becoming a mole for the FBI. In fact there's a good few scenes near the start
where those two get to know each other by having fun and dicking about which is
kind of like the shittest Justice League movie you could possibly imagine! This film is directed by David
O'Russell who, some people will remember as the director of Three Kings, The
Fighter and Silver Linings Playbook and who others won't remember as
the director of I Heart Huckabees. In case none of that rings any bells
though then he's also the guy that got into a proper tussle with George Clooney
on one set and was filmed losing his shit with Lily Tomlin on another. In
regards to the Lily Tomlin one I suggest you check it out on YouTube if you
haven't already just to see how blindly mad one human can possibly get... also
it's fucking hilarious to see him storming in and out of various set doors as
though it's a chase scene in a Scooby Doo cartoon whilst the elderly
actress that he's screaming at remains fairly chilled out. If we're going back
to Jung's theory of personas then it seems David O'Russell has worked pretty
hard at presenting himself to the world as a massive angry twat.
Anyway I said that hair was the key to
understanding this film and it is, with each character sporting head pubes so
awful that the shamed barber responsible should be forced to fall on his
scissors. Christian Bale has gone for the classic look of having a bald head on
top but with long hair around the sides to comb over after hiding the naked scalp
below a scraggily glued on merkin. However despite being proper ridiculous, it
really just serves to show us who the character is as the film opens with a
long sequence in which Bale lovingly and meticulously crafts it from scratch.
It's hard to create but shows that he's a man who'll put in the time and patience
for just a little dignity. It also shows a more human side to him as we see a
misjudged attempt at hiding vulnerability by accidentally drawing attention to
it. His hair really has its cake and eats it by partly helping to endear him to
us but also getting laughs out of how much of a knob it makes him look. This is
true of pretty much everybody else too with Bradley Cooper’s tightly wound perm
being representative of his tightly wound and slightly manic personality. I
suppose that for both Amy Adams and Jennifer Lawrence who are both kind of
fighting for Bale’s attention... well, their hair is like a peacocks feathers
getting bigger and bigger as one tries to intimidate the other whilst keeping
the eye of their mate on them. As well as these world class actors, the
comedian Louis CK turns up as a fat, balding man with a ginger goatee... Amazing
how chameleonic some people can be.
However not only does the hair tell you
about the characters, it is so over the top and eye-catching that it draws your
attention to just how fucking superficial everything is. Like any movie about
money that's set near the end of the 70's and definitely the 80's, American
Hustle also shows off the excess of those slightly tacky decades. For
anybody who flashed their cash, films like this, Wall Street and American
Psycho revel in their depiction of double crossing arseholes who hide their
two faces behind either shoulder pads and beehives or pinstripe suits and
offensively un-erotic porno tache's. This superficial streak is only emphasised
by the films plot which is about a group of people who make a living from
conning people into believing that they're people that they're not. I've never
used the word 'people' more in my life than that previous sentence. Considering
this was during crime’s tutorial decades where there was no internet to quickly
Google for bullshit, assuming false identities was simply a case of coming up
with a character, dressing up and again... presenting the correct persona. For
the sake of this blog alone, I am so fucking glad that I read that shit by
Jung.
 |
| "It smells funny.. Like my fingers are here to fucking amuse you?" |
However this idea of presenting a false
persona through superficial details not only exists within the plot of American
Hustle but actually within the DNA of the movie itself. The film has
long swooping camera movements, cool edits, a heavy reliance on voice-overs and
a great soundtrack. It also examines both morally grey characters, the
corruption of the American Dream and also puts more emphasis on people's
relationships than the actual plot. Just short of shagging Liza Minnelli, doing
too much cocaine and almost dying of asthma, American Hustle seems
desperate to convince us all that it is the work of Martin Scorsese. On top of
that, there's a scene here that seems to take place in the same restaurant as
the Goodfellas, 'Funny how? scene'
and a fight between Bale and Lawrence that to anybody with blurred vision is
kind of like the fight between De Niro and Sharon Stone in Casino. In
fact the only thing it lacked to make it feel completely like a Scorsese film
is the appearance of De Niro as a violent Mobster and then bam! About half way
in.. Spoiler Alert... De Niro shows up as a violent mobster.
However, rather than feel like a Scorsese
rip-off the film gets away with it because firstly, the whole thing is about
depicting fake identities through surface details and secondly, it's just so much
damn fun. Although at the very worst it did make me desperate to catch up with The
Wolf of Wall Street. I can say with some certainty that so far this is
definitely my favourite film of 2014 which is only partly down to the fact that
it's the only one I've seen so far. However, even if that wasn't the case
there's surely no way that anybody couldn't enjoy the scene where Lawrence is
going apeshit to the song Live and Let Die and dancing like a pisshead
with a power cable up her arse. To conclude, if you've not seen American
Hustle then I recommend you go and check it out because it's funnier than
most comedies and features great performances from everybody... Particularly
Amy Adams who seems to be playing three characters at once- she's an English
woman, an American Woman and a woman who can't decide if she's the English or
American one. I'm not sure what Jung would say about the persona she puts out
considering she's confused by it herself although I might have to read on and
find out. In fact I only read the book once and there's a good chance that I
might have gotten all this persona bullshit wrong. I'm pretty sure I haven't
but... fuck.. I'll go re-read it. Hope you enjoy and see you next week
motherfuckers!
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