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Shamelessly, Painfully Derivative of Blade Runner.
There's homage, then there's unimaginative ripping-off. I heard comparisons to Blade Runner previous to seeing this stinker, but went in with an open mind. 'Twas bad enough having to strain to understand Antonio's unintelligible dialogue and being faced with Melanie's and many others' wooden acting. But to present a piece to Sci-Fi fans containing so many lamely "on the nose" Blade Runner references is downright shameful. Among the pilfered: Certain wardrobe and sets, characters, sound effects, music, poorly imitated lighting, flashbacks, pleasure models, a run-down city surrounded by Kipple-like no-man's land, I mean they actually had the nerve to do a close-up of boiling eggs, fer Christ's sake! The flipped-over turtle reference-enough already...we get it.
A promising concept, just so lacking in imagination. Wooden acting. And did the wife really drive her new baby out into radioactive desert lands, just happening to come upon her hubby and the crew? Fortunately, unlike the brilliant Ridley Scott film so plagiarized here, Automata doesn't have the substance or depth to have a lasting impact, and should fade away soon enough.
Take This Waltz (2011)
A Feast of Heart and Intelligence...With a Side of Fear.
This film is an absolute joy. A quirky and brilliantly wrought tale of the heart, its many nuances flesh out the depth and feeling to the extent that you feel like you're part of it all.
The acting is superb-Michelle Williams absolutely blew me away.
There are layers of symbolism in the presentation of the story to sink your teeth into, and the daring, artful cinematography often took my breath away.
Color, sound, and light are used like paintbrushes...this film is a finely tuned beauty. Thoughtful and precise...we follow the twists and turns of Margot's heart with bated breath and an understanding sigh.
Artful storytelling at its finest.
The Island (2005)
It's BIG, It's Dumb.
And it had promise. I imagine some brilliant writer came up with this very thought-provoking concept, only to have Bay and his Hollywood cronies turn it into vapid trash.
Shame on these talented actors for selling out their integrity to be a part of this pile. SHAME.
Shame on Bay for the shameless, laughable, and distracting product placement, asinine sexist jokes, BLATANT Blade Runner rip-offs, and total lack of heart, continuity, or character development.
Textbook case as to why American audiences are considered unsophisticated. So at the end the clones are unleashed into the desert-then what? They now get to go get laid, subscribe to Maxim, and drink Bud out of fancy cans. Unintentionally ironic, though lame as all hell.
The Cult Of Celebrity, Alive and Well.
I was quite intrigued to see this film and Crispin himself doing his spoken word performance in my town, as I've very much enjoyed his offbeat acting and artistic choices. Unfortunately, my sense of anticipation slowly morphed into a disappointing combination of boredom and disgust as the night wore on.
Adapted from the screenplay of and starring Steven C. Stewart, a man stricken with cerebral palsy, the storyline meanders at a snail's pace as you try and figure out where the hell it's going. Stewart's constant, garbled diction and the naive dialogue are at first quite interesting, though before long it becomes glaringly clear that true substance is bowing to leery shock value here. Actress after beautiful actress gets naked, has sex with in some cases, and then gets attacked and murdered by this frustrated fellow.
After the showing, we learn that it was Steven's and then Crispin's dream to have Steven's vision be made reality before his imminent passing, a concept both noble and intriguing. Subjected to 74 minutes of pure, self-indulgent misogyny though, I feel angry that precious time of my life was used up for this thankless drudge, and sad for Steven that this simple-minded "fantasy" of ugliness and hate was his swan song.
Should disabled people have voices in the media? Absolutely. Should Crispin be allowed to make a film like this? Sure. But how disappointing that someone with such a propensity for the counterculture would devote his creative talents to a piece filled with stinky elements so commonly floating in the mainest of streams-gratuitous female nudity, sexualizing of underage young girls, women compromising themselves, women being killed and in general being sex objects/victims. So the fact that this tired, toxic norm is filtered through the eyes of a man with cerebral palsy instead of your average douchey Hollywood type makes it deep?
We get it-disabled people have dark thoughts. This could have been accomplished in a five-minute short.
There is also no doubt in my mind that the shameless ego-stroking that ensued in Crispin's direction after this screening would have taken quite a different form if this mess was presented by Joe Unknown.