X-Men Apocalypse – A Drunken Film Review

Drunken review #4 X-Men Apocalypse (written as I go, which means more words and less coherence!)

OK, from the opening sequence and credits, if this isn’t a cross between X-Men, Stargate and Hudson Hawk, I’ll be disappointed.

No, wait, this underground cage fight thing. It’s like something from an 80s post apocalyptic film that would have a musician like Mick Jagger or Debbie Harry or someone.

Oh, hey cultists, if only you’d thought to leave the blanket off your pyramid hole, you could have had your God back. Good job Moira MacTaggert was there to do it for you.

This film feels like X-Men 3. Not sure why. Maybe it’s a palpable drop in quality. Maybe it’s that they’ve brought in big characters for what looks like the last film in a series – Beast in X-Men 3, Nightcrawler and Angel in this.

Ooh! It’s going to turn into a fish out of water comedy. “He was an Egyptian god, just trying to make it in the modern world.”

And thanks for telling us what Apocalypse means Professor Exposition.

Hey look! Richard O’Brien and Dave Hill!

Archangel’s CGI wings look awful. Michael Fassbinder is very, very good in this. That ‘joke’ about the third film being the worst? Maybe you should have left that out. That was your Gerald Ratner moment.

No! Only The Fall can use Symphony No.7 (trailer to feature below. I f***ing love that film).

I think they just massively overdid the Quicksilver thing, like a Peter Kay joke.

Watching superhero films is kind of like being a Wolves fan. Often, you watch more out of duty than enjoyment. This is Wolves Blackburn for the last two seasons.

Nightcrawler plays synth in a My Chemical Romance tribute band. They’re called My Comical Bromance, but only because it’s the first thing they thought of where the words sounded the same. He’s written his own stuff, but the other band members won’t play it. His mom doesn’t seem to recognise him. Shit! Was that Adam Richman?

Wine review. Either this is a low percentage wine, or my tolerance has increased.

As this is spoiler free… Based on other recent Marvel films, this bit is poor. And confused.

Is Cyclops baby Barry Pepper? Remember that awful Barry Pepper montage from We Were Soldiers? That and Battlefield Earth are his legacy, which is a shame, because he was good in Saving Private Ryan and at least one other film.

Beast looks like Teen Wolf!

Look out, Andrew Lloyd Webber! Those cargo containers look deadly. A big bridge. That’s why it felt like X-Men 3. That had a big bridge.

Hey look! A big X! For X-Men! And now they’re all using their powers in sequence! Go team!

Didn’t realise Moira MacTaggert was married to Bobby Cannavele. She’s an awful actor. Looks a bit like Gillian Anderson, bit if you watch American Gods, the difference in talebt is immense. The Station Agent is a great film. This isn’t. They’ve set things up for the next X-Men film. Which will probably be a reboot, so it won’t matter anyway. There’s been some great superhero films recently. Oh wait, I think we’re done. As I was saying, there’s been some great superhero films recently. One involving a character from this.

You want fame? Well fame costs

Yellowwood Cabaret Sauvignon. 12.5% (told you it was a bit weak). About six quid.

 

Okja – My first ever Drunken Review

Drunk film reviews #1 Okja is very good. Is Tilda Swinton hot? Not sure. It’s like she is, but tries really hard to hide it by playing grotesque caricatures. Wait, is that the guy from the film where Daniel Day Lewis has a moustache and shouts a lot? Had a beard. Think he was in a music a video I liked. If film makes me going back to being vegetarian after about 20 years, am I shallow, or is the film good? Is that the grandfather from The Host? Is this what it would look like if Disney realised that 90% of the world were self serving and not swayed by some misty eyed nonsense that love can change the world? Is there anything in the fridge that doesn’t need cooking and doesn’t have meat? Have I got another episode of Glow in me before I go to sleep? Do you have to cook lentils?

 

Tarkovsky’s Nostalghia – A Drunken Review

There’s certain directors whose name you have to append to the film when you mention it. It’s not because the film needs to be differentiated from films with the same name – this one is spelt differently from other films called Nostalgia, of which I’m sure there are a few. You don’t say Bay’s Transformers to make sure nobody confuses it with Lou Reed’s marvellous album (which is singular rather than plural anyway). Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Drunken film reviews and naming convention. I’m only tipsy, so, back in a moment.

Yes. Tarkovsky’s Nostalgia. With Tarkovsky (other than Solaris, his most famous, but worst film), you know what you’re getting, about 180k works of art. Each shot is chosen and framed beautifully. Case in point. There’s a bit where the depressed Russian poet is in the depressed Italian nutter’s house. It pans past the poet and across a shelf that looks like it’s been laid out for a Renaissance artist to paint a still life. Then there’s the Russian poet’s hotel room. There’s almost perfect symmetry of light and dark (where something happens where it looks like the Russian poet dreams about his female translator maybe having an affair with his wife before starting at him and then possibly being a werewolf).

When you’re watching a film, do you ever get the feeling that the director is trying to tell you something via props? In this, there’s a lot of bottles in the Italian nutter’s house catching water from a leaky roof, as well as a piece of plastic sheeting doing the same, but looking like it’s about to break. Maybe it’s something about pointlessness, inability to hold back life and impending threat, but it’s never directly addressed. Maybe Tarkovsky overestimates people like me. Maybe I did understand and underestimate myself. I only found out about impostor syndrome this week.

Like all Tarkovsky films, there’s long tracking and panning shots and footage of ground water (what is it with that). There’s black and white and changes in film stock (about three different kinds in this – again, there has to be some meaning to this, but I can’t quite place it). There’s also isolated houses. Maybe he lived in one. Maybe it’s the beauty of isolation. Maybe it’s the fear of isolation. They both exist – fear and comfort from the same thing. Maybe it’s purely aesthetic. I mean the end of the film… Well false perspective and isolation and stuff. You get the feeling that, visually, nothing is left to chance. Back to the poet’s hotel room. The chair in the bathroom. I bet he spent an hour placing it and replacing it.

It’s a beautiful film and proof that even where there’s no obvious narrative, Tarkovsky can hold the viewer’s attention. He trusts his actors implicitly. They can deliver monologues and soliloquys in contrived fashions without interrupting the flow of the film.