Nothing else to say
When it comes to prior knowledge of the subject matter before seeing a movie, it is all situational.
Case in point, I have yet to play any of the Five Night at Freddy’s games (or “FNAF” as I know it to be called), but I knew just enough about it in a sense going in thanks to the trailer and the expert of the games going with me named Sean, a friend’s son.
It should be obvious, but it is nigh impossible to call oneself a cinephile and dislike the films of Martin Scorsese (or at least not appreciate them).
His name is on par with directing giants of the past: Hitchcock, Ford, Ozu, Welles, Kurosawa, Kubrick, Fellini. He has been in the twilight of his career for a little over a decade now, but has never lost his unique cinematic eye. For those like him working into his 80s (it should be noted before this film, I saw two trailers for up coming films from two octogenarian filmmakers: Michael Mann and Ridley Scott), it is not easy to bring about something fresh as well as ones old tricks.
Yesterday was my first time back at my local Six Flags Theme Park in many years.
It was refreshing, knowing that, in my mid thirties, I am still able to stomach (most of) the rides, both new and classic (not to mention all the walking).
All of that was a cake walk to the previous night, when I went to see Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour.
(It should now me stated that this is not so much a review of a film as it is of an experience.)
I was allowed to see most R rated movies growing up in my pre-teen/teen years, with the sole exception of 1973’s The Exorcist. My mom was so convinced she could be possessed that she was against me seeing it until she would be able to watch it with me, and pause before every scary part.
Even after a half century of sequels and (truly) countless rip offs, The Exorcist has still retained it’s immortality on the Mt. Rushmore of horror films. It is hard to argue its impact. From that view point, it is easy to see why director David Gordon Green, who just finished a trilogy of Halloween sequels (which I have yet to see), would want to use the same approach and make a direct sequel to the late great William Friedkin directed masterpiece. The result, The Exorcist: Believer, is a true let down.
I’m not much of a proponent for AI, but I do admit it has positives I cannot deny (let us never underestimate what spell check has done for us, and iif it weren’t for a GPS, I would be disoriented on the road).
AI also has helped tremendously as a subject for film, dating back to its real starting point (in what is arguably still the greatest Sci-Fi film to date) with the HAL 9000 in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). Since then, AI has been somewhat over used in media, so one may even be excused to think some of what is shown in Gareth Edwards’ The Creator is cliche.
As someone on the autism spectrum, I sometimes think what life would be like if my intense interest in cinema was instead in wall street.
I am not saying I wish that to be the case, but if it were, perhaps I may have had a chance at the whole GameStop issue from the start of 2021, and then clearly understand what is happening in the film based off of these events, Dumb Money.
The last decade or so of romance films have been really hit or miss for me, especially in the young adult genre.
(The following is a lost ad from The Hallmark Channel)
LOST:
Recently, one of our vaults was raided and we lost access to a film. That film is Love Again. It came out earlier this year, but should be easy to spot, for how it is masquerading itself as a rom com.
The tagline for George Lucas’ pre-Star Wars breakthrough American Graffiti reads
“Where were you in 62?”
Simply put, I was a quarter of a century away from being born. Even so, if the film were set in 1962, 1922, or 2006 (the year I graduated), the film would still showcase human elements that apply to young adults everywhere.
As a kid, my interest in the Gran Turismo games reflected that of my interest in motor racing in general, which is to say there was very little interest at all (unless said races featured a mascot plumber and his friends shooting turtle shells).
It seems as though director Neill Blomkamp (District 9) and the others behind the film Gran Turismo knew that there would be a good junk of us that know virtually little about the sport of motor racing, so they put together the old formula of a “feel good sports film” together. Anyone who has seen the trailer will be laps ahead of the cliches.
Nothing else to say