Notes, page 10

Almost okay. Yet another nostalgia grab that fails to be anything more.

I have no idea how to assign a rating to this, so I won’t.

Schadenfreude aside, I mostly just wanted it to be over. Yet I’m somehow glad I watched it. I can understand why people latch onto it, but I’m not counting myself among them.

It’s almost impossible not to love this film — it’s adorable and wholesome and beautiful. I find it great to see Pixar’s push for diversity keep paying off, and their technical prowess keep noticeably improving, ever on a league of their own. The sheer vibrancy, scale, and depth of the design and animation work that went into this film is astounding.

I cried on cue every time I was supposed to. The tearjerking formula is as effective as ever, yet feeling more and more predictable and manipulative, no matter how well-intentioned.

Brad Bird says “animation is not a genre”, but I’m afraid Pixar movies might be turning into one — with very specific and recognizable themes, tropes, and character arcs. I’d really like to see a wider range of story types coming from Pixar, maybe even exploring the direction the excellent Borrowed Time short went in. Let’s see what Bird does with Incredibles 2 this year, though I’m not holding my breath for a revolution.

Sharp wit, fantastic acting, and all the panache of a big Oscar film. But story-wise, doesn’t seem like a particularly worthwhile exploration of any of the themes it presents — small-town America, anger, hate, blame, redemption — they’re treated heavy-handedly, often sacrificing depth for the sake of being funny or provocative (oh god, the daughter scene). That shallowness might be intentional, but it left no room for me to empathize with any of the characters.

Instantly charming, emotionally charged, and flawed in all the right ways. A restrained, impeccably edited 90-minute runtime. I came in optimistic, but I never expected a perfect coming of age film.

Blade Runner is one of my all-time faves. Internet, I have opinions.

First of all: thank you, Ridley Scott, for realising the reins needed to be handed over. And oh boy were they handed to exactly the right people. Denis Villeneuve one-ups Arrival with sheer ambition, and Roger Deakins turns in some of the most beautiful imagery I have ever seen in a film, period.

I can see now why Villeneuve took such a risky job, at a time when sequels are so often aggressively received as “ruining the original” — the script is poignant and gracious, breathing even more life into the world of the first film, but standing on its own as a story worth telling. For all it does, it’s surprising how little it relies on the trappings of being a sequel.

The atmosphere is chilling, sharpening a sense of existential dread and desperation; the original feels more curious and hopeful by comparison. The score handles this transition handsomely, if not as iconically as Vangelis’ 1982 masterpiece. I would love to hear Jóhann Jóhannsson’s take on it.

As before, the world itself is a central character in the narrative, and it gets its fair share of character development: the art direction is delightfully obsessive in attention to detail, presenting brilliant solutions to retro-futuristic contradictions in design. The ’80s approach to futurism is built upon to read as soulful instead of dated, taking “the future is old” to new heights. I could have done without Jared Leto’s blue LED, though.

Unfortunately, just like the theatrical cut of Blade Runner, there are a couple of flaws regarding exposition that I suspect come from studio meddling more than anything else. Here’s hoping we once again get a cleaned-up Director’s Cut.

Like its predecessor, this is an intimate, haunting film, as well as a grandiose cinematic experience. After Ridley Scott’s own meandering Alien prequels, the concept of a new Blade Runner seemed like such a bad idea that this outcome feels nothing short of miraculous.