It’s the end of the world. They used to make good movies. Now they just make lousy fucking products.
Listen:
The Imitation Game
Okay let’s get the most homophobic one out of the way. Jesus Christ do you think I’m supposed to be happy with this fucking movie about another suicidal homosexual who doesn’t get laid but instead spends this whole weepie pining for some adolescent boy love and chumming it up with his best faghag friend? Christ, this kind of shit makes me so mad! Didn’t Alan Turing ever have sex with a person with a penis in his adult life? In an alley? In a bed? Anywhere? Are we actually in the 21st century?
Foxcatcher
Yes, this one is homophobic too. Too bad because it’s such a damn fine movie. What an eloquent fucking statement against American patriotism. Nothing can match Steve Carrell’s over the top constipated impersonation of an American fascist who loves his country so much he decides to (spoiler alert) shoot everybody randomly at the end of the movie. Only one elephant in the room: John du Pont is obviously in love with his young wrestling protege, right? (And don’t tell me I’m imagining it!) That's the other thing that makes his character evil, right? In fact, Carrell’s lust for Tatum’s huge, sweaty, throbbing, body actually trumps the evil of his character’s patriotism, and makes him super evil, right? (Sigh. We’ve come NO WAYS, baby!)
Mr. Turner
I bet you thought I couldn’t find homophobia in Mr. Turner. Well you’re wrong. This is another fabulous movie, but halfway through we suddenly have to put up with a lisping caricature of John Ruskin, who is not only portrayed as an aesthetic dolt, but the one Mike Leigh obviously holds responsible for single-handedly destroying 19th century art. (I’m sure Leigh would have loved to put Oscar Wilde in the fucking movie — only it would have been historically inaccurate, so he had to settle for Ruskin.) In one very eloquent melancholy moment Turner gazes at the sad pulchritudinous colours of the up and coming Pre-Raphaelite invasion — obviously brought on by Ruskin’s aesthetic rants. All fine and good. But does Ruskin have to be such a repellent arrogant queen (even if maybe he actually was one in real life)? Honestly, it’s times like these when I think of that totally anal geek from U of Laurier Press who was the editor of my PH.D thesis, and consequently stopped it from publication. She kept saying “I don’t see any justification for your notion that there are still gay villains in movies these days!” Well wake up and smell the coffee, baby, they’re EVERYWHERE!
The Gambler
Marky Mark is very smart. I think this movie should go down in history for one thing and one thing only. It isn’t that profound (it’s a so-so remake of a 70s hit that starred James Caan). It was quite obviously concocted simply to secure an Oscar for Jessica Lange as best supporting actress. (Mark Wahlberg is not only smart, but is a great producer, and he knows talent.) Don’t get me wrong. Lange totally deserves the Oscar. But I have never seen a movie before where they actually filmed a scene for the leading supporting lady that was perfectly timed and shaped for placement in the Academy Awards as an acting clip.The moment (on the street) — where Lange yells at her son for borrowing money — is superb; it convenes with anger and ends with tears. Only someone as good as Jessica Lange could pull it off. But — wow — what placement!
Unbroken
Okay. Enough with The Christians already. It’s not a bad flic — as far as these ‘I got tortured by the Japs’ movies go. (Need I mention that the Japanese torturer is unnecessarily effeminate and girly looking?) Anyway, I was enjoying all the hardship and the balletic squirming from too much sun and solitary confinement, too many sharks and beatings — especially when applied to the pretty eyes/lips/body of the gorgeous Jack O’Connell (it really reminded me of my favourite new porn fad: ‘edging’! ). But the leading character (based on the real, now dead, Lou Zamperini) mentioned his fondness for praying and his ‘faith’ one too many times. Jesus Christ — to coin a phrase — couldn’t we leave God out of this? Then I figured out that Angelina Jolie directed it (she did a very good job) — which confused me further — is Angelina now a Christian too? (God help us!) Then I googled the movie and apparently all the Christians are angry because (get this!) the movie doesn’t mention Christ enough. Jesus, it is the end of the world.
The Theory of Everything
Don’t know where to start. Lovely lovely, lovely, and again, lovely. But were there not allegations that Hawking’s first wife — who is so lovingly portrayed in the movie — abused him? Why not at least acknowledge that? Or is there no respect for truth anywhere, anymore?
Into the Woods
Yes Meryl you were fabulous. But I really hate Sondheim when he gets preachy. Sorry to all the people who worship at the alter of Sir Stephen, but though a brilliant composer/lyricist, his privileged (‘Oh yes, Oscar Hammerstein was like an uncle to me!’) conceited arrogance is too often beyond the pale. While Sondheim can create perfect musicals like Sweeney Todd and A Little Night Music, he can also create crapola psychoanalytic diatribes — like this one that just never ends (or rather, ends several times). As an old friend of mine used to say. “Yes Sondheim wrote the lyrics for ‘Everything’s Coming Up Roses,’ but don’t forget, he also wrote the lyrics for ‘Little Lamb’!”
Annie
Haven’t seen it. Won’t. Am speechless. This was supposed to be a camp musical. It was supposed to be the opposite of heartwarming. Oh well, that’s what happens when camp gets appropriated by straights who wouldn’t know camp if they fell over it.
Exodus Gods and Kings
Please don’t make me see it. (But perhaps just for Joel Edgertons much remarked upon eyebrows?)
Big Eyes
Am going to see it today. Will keep you posted……promise.
