Nothing else to say
Even though it is the definite article used in all English language, I admit I did not think just adding “The” in a movie title could be a big improvement to a sequel.
Still, that change will help you remember which of the two Suicide Squad films is the superior one.
I will give Guy Ritchie’s newest film this much: It is the first film I have seen in some time that revolves around the drivers of big bags of cash.
In heist films, the drivers are very much underappreciated (if not by their employers, then certainly the audience), so the Wrath of Man did have me a tad bit hopeful in that we may get a new type of action packed thriller. Sadly, that is not the case.
My love for cinema truly became apparent to me in my early teen years, but my love of the Mortal Kombat video games started at the age of five.
I remember with perfect accuracy my parents’ hesitancy to get the game for my older brother Adam and I, but they eventually gave in to our wishes (provided we got along). The following years resulted in many hours playing MK 1-4 with friends (most notably my best friend Greg) on button mashing, face punching, gut kicking, head decapitating, limb ripping, organ exploding bliss. That is not to mention the 1995 original film (with a theme song that never grows old) that still delights today, despite a sequel that proved to be one of the worst films mankind has ever known.
IMDB may have the director of 2017’s Justice League as Zach Snyder, but that was far from his original film.
The origins of the “Snyder Cut” are now well known: When the film was being finished in early 2017, Snyder had to back out after the tragic suicide of his daughter, Autumn. Joss Whedon (who helmed the first two Avengers films for the MCU) stepped in, and the film was changed drastically. The film’s 4 hour run time was basically cut in half to two, the tone of the film was much lighter, and composer Thomas Holkenborg (better known as Junkie XL) was replaced by Danny Elfman.
When it comes to name recognition, it seems like the third time is definitely the charm for director Chloe Zhao.
While I have yet to see her debut film (2015’s Songs My Brothers Taught Me), I did manage to see her second film, The Rider (2017), the story of a young cowboy recovering from a near fatal accident and needing to find a new path in life. It takes more than one movie or so to discover a director’s true voice, but Zhao certainly is going down the path of intimate film making (it also helps that her first two movies were written by Zhao), which is more than evident in her third feature Nomadland.
To describe the career of Ben Affleck as “varied” would almost be an understatement.
After making it in the spotlight by winning the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay (with his good friend Matt Damon) for 1997’s Good Will Hunting, he stretched into the “Razzie” territory with films like 1998’s Armageddon (which Affleck has comically given his own thoughts on), Pearl Harbor (2001), and 2003’s mega dud Gigli.
“It’s the little things that are important, Jimmy.”
Says the veteran cop to the hotshot rookie detective, and is something heard before in other films. Sadly, the reason The Little Things turns out very subpar and forgettable is, to be honest, the little things.
It was a spine tingling time as a 13 year old on a Tuesday in June of 2001.
The American Film Institute was revealing their annual Top 100 list that they would do every year. That year’s was entitled 100 Years, 100 Thrills. As the countdown was concluding, I had made a $5 bet with my dad (the most I could afford at that time) over which would be number one. He was going with Jaws, while I was rooting for Psycho. By the end, Jaws was number 2, and I had won five dollars, bragging for some time afterwards.
For nearly a decade, I have truly been blessed with the seven summers I was able to spend a week of being a counselor at a Christian Youth Camp.
The memories are indeed too many: Small group bible lessons, archery, paintball, inside jokes about having too much bread (Wade and Hudson know), starlight devos, my alarm clock being thrown out by my co-counselor, sacrificing a pair of socks for a camper, out door movie nights, having another camper ask if I knew how to talk to girls (my initial response: “No one does.”), the countless nicknames I would give and be given (“The Cap” is the best nickname I have ever gotten).
In a perfect world, Do the Right Thing is a movie that should not exist.
The ideal world would be without the things demonstrated in the film: anger, prejudice, racism. Yet that is the world we live in, and have before the late 80s and still to this day. The list of names belonging to lives lost due to racial injustice is far to the point of many of them being forgotten by all who did not know them. This is why Spike Lee’s uncanny piece of art will almost always be a film that will resonate with any generation.
Nothing else to say