The Fast and the Furious franchise shares more with Marvel movies than just overflowing box office riches. At their cores, they seek to offer audiences exactly what they expect, which basically constitutes nothing more than things that go BOOM.
When the most striking aspects of a cinematic adaptation of a novel that’s anything but novel (see what I did there?) cannot even be solely credited to the movie itself, it’s safe to say that no one needs to particularly rush to see it (especially since reading the original book – presumably worthwhile enough for a studio to spend money obtaining the film rights – would almost surely be a better use of time).
Once upon a time, Disney mastered the art of manufacturing fairy tales, mostly for better…but somewhat for worse too.
Last year, I posted a rather negative takedown of Blumhouse Productions, in which I bemoaned their lack of ingenuity in the name of box office riches and likened this formula to that of modern-day superhero movies, specifically those of Marvel Studios.
Unlike the hordes of deplorables who may use the hashtag that serves as the title of this piece to express their grievances regarding the casting-diversity in this year’s big-screen adaptation of Power Rangers, I wish to direct its sentiment not at the cast’s inclusive representation — one of the few redeeming qualities in the whole affair — but rather at the generic, superhero dreck that surrounds them.
A documentary about a tragically-seminal modern event like Ferguson sounds almost essential given the current political crisis.
2017 is shaping up to be a year of niche movies.
Annabelle: Creation is comprised almost exclusively of tired horror tropes, and even lacks the common positive ones (it couldn’t at least throw the audience the genre’s customarily stylish cinematography).
=As a newcomer to the #FreelanceLyfe, I’ve been revisiting some movies and shows from earlier this year trying to detect trends that would make for juicy pitches in the eyes of omnipotent editors.
A sheltered man with an unconventional mind lives a golden-spoon life far removed from the poverty right outside his not-so-humble abode. Some may call him simple, but his distinct perspective is a direct result of his only access to the outside world: obsessive television watching. Almost everything he knows about life has been gleaned from the boob tube. Through this small-screen understanding, he dupes his way into the highest offices of America, convincing the country he’s someone that he’s not.
Don’t worry: this is not yet another think piece about Donald J. Trump.