Ayupgeeza
Joined Jul 2022
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Reviews10
Ayupgeeza's rating
The origin of this film's problems is that it is simply far too long.
The producers - presumably with the financial benefits in mind - chose to split one production into two movies, and this first installment, at over 150 minutes long, is a bit of a marathon.
This creates a host of problems.
Firstly, the movie drags. For a bright, colourful musical, there is far too much downtime where you find yourself waiting for the plot to advance in some way. Scenes are extended unnecessarily, so a punchy stage production has become slightly soporific.
Despite this extra length, the producers haven't deviated from the plot and characterisation of the stage show. Unfortunately, this means that, despite being given a bit more room to breathe, all of the characters appear one-dimensional. This, to me, is the major flaw in this film: everyone in it is either stupid, evil or annoying, or a combination of the three, which makes it quite difficult to care about any of them. In a shorter movie this could be glossed over, but with the extra length it becomes very difficult to avoid.
To manufacture pace where there is none, the director has taken to 2-second cuts and clever camerawork for all the dance routines, which unfortunately strips them of all of their charm and engagement.
This is frustrating because there is a good film buried underneath these problems. The two female leads are unequivocally excellent, the songs are catchy, and it is visually spectacular.
The stage show had the benefit of a substantial re-write after mixed reviews in its first run. It's a shame this movie won't benefit from similar treatment.
The producers - presumably with the financial benefits in mind - chose to split one production into two movies, and this first installment, at over 150 minutes long, is a bit of a marathon.
This creates a host of problems.
Firstly, the movie drags. For a bright, colourful musical, there is far too much downtime where you find yourself waiting for the plot to advance in some way. Scenes are extended unnecessarily, so a punchy stage production has become slightly soporific.
Despite this extra length, the producers haven't deviated from the plot and characterisation of the stage show. Unfortunately, this means that, despite being given a bit more room to breathe, all of the characters appear one-dimensional. This, to me, is the major flaw in this film: everyone in it is either stupid, evil or annoying, or a combination of the three, which makes it quite difficult to care about any of them. In a shorter movie this could be glossed over, but with the extra length it becomes very difficult to avoid.
To manufacture pace where there is none, the director has taken to 2-second cuts and clever camerawork for all the dance routines, which unfortunately strips them of all of their charm and engagement.
This is frustrating because there is a good film buried underneath these problems. The two female leads are unequivocally excellent, the songs are catchy, and it is visually spectacular.
The stage show had the benefit of a substantial re-write after mixed reviews in its first run. It's a shame this movie won't benefit from similar treatment.
The cornerstone of this movie is domestic abuse, which is undoubtedly a challenging subject to cover in any depth in a couple of hours. It's all too easy to slip into stereotypes, to portray battered women as universally weak and vulnerable, and thus fail to penetrate the depths of a highly complex and nuanced subject.
The film consequently deserves considerable credit for attempting to go beyond those paradigms, by trying to convey to the viewer how an otherwise strong and intelligent woman might find herself in an abusive relationship. This is undoubtedly a Hurculean task: achievable in a novel, perhaps, where every interaction, every moment, every character and every emotion can be painted in exquisite detail; but in a comparatively brief film it is almost impossible to address in any depth.
Consequently, it's no surprise that the film fails to achieve its goals. Justin Baldoni's Ryle is creepy and disturbing more or less from the outset, and Blake Lively's Lily is far too worldly and intelligent to be as naive to the myriad red flags as she is. The relationship between the two key characters lacks any real depth, and instead feels like superficial lust between two beautiful people rather than any kind of love. The result is a series of scenarios that meander between the implausible and the downright peculiar, without ever really convincing.
Lively's casting has been the source of some controversy. Her character would undoubtedly be more convincing if she were 23, as in the book, rather than in her late thirties. One is forced to wonder what she's been doing in her adult life up to the point she randomly decides to open a flower shop in Boston, and how all that life experience has apparently failed to prepare her for dealing with a hunky neurosurgeon with anger management issues.
Still, for all its failures, the film offers plenty of value. In particular, it forces the audience to consider some key issues, such as how even the most intelligent people can blind themselves to the reality of their existence. It offers plenty of talking points, and promotes a debate that shows no signs of going away. The secondary cast, led by Jenny Slate's entertaining Allysa, is generally engaging and amusing, the production is slick and the set-pieces are well-executed.
In short: it's not a great movie, but go see it anyway.
The film consequently deserves considerable credit for attempting to go beyond those paradigms, by trying to convey to the viewer how an otherwise strong and intelligent woman might find herself in an abusive relationship. This is undoubtedly a Hurculean task: achievable in a novel, perhaps, where every interaction, every moment, every character and every emotion can be painted in exquisite detail; but in a comparatively brief film it is almost impossible to address in any depth.
Consequently, it's no surprise that the film fails to achieve its goals. Justin Baldoni's Ryle is creepy and disturbing more or less from the outset, and Blake Lively's Lily is far too worldly and intelligent to be as naive to the myriad red flags as she is. The relationship between the two key characters lacks any real depth, and instead feels like superficial lust between two beautiful people rather than any kind of love. The result is a series of scenarios that meander between the implausible and the downright peculiar, without ever really convincing.
Lively's casting has been the source of some controversy. Her character would undoubtedly be more convincing if she were 23, as in the book, rather than in her late thirties. One is forced to wonder what she's been doing in her adult life up to the point she randomly decides to open a flower shop in Boston, and how all that life experience has apparently failed to prepare her for dealing with a hunky neurosurgeon with anger management issues.
Still, for all its failures, the film offers plenty of value. In particular, it forces the audience to consider some key issues, such as how even the most intelligent people can blind themselves to the reality of their existence. It offers plenty of talking points, and promotes a debate that shows no signs of going away. The secondary cast, led by Jenny Slate's entertaining Allysa, is generally engaging and amusing, the production is slick and the set-pieces are well-executed.
In short: it's not a great movie, but go see it anyway.
This summer promises to be a relatively quiet one for movie-goers, and I suspect that many - like me - will be tempted into seeing this film for want of anything else to watch on the big screen. Unfortunately, however - and despite my love of Nic Cage and low budget indie movies - I found this film to be desperately disappointing.
The clues come very early in the film. In the first scene, a young girl stands in the snow-covered back garden of her home, looking for the sound that attracted her. She looks left: nothing. She looks right: nothing. Then a quick cut with a loud musical cue to Longlegs, standing in front of her. The musical cue implies this is meant to be terrifying, but it was not; it was a tedious and predictable horror trope, and as the film progresses it delves into the stockroom of well-worn horror cliches more and more. Some films manage to do this with a sense of charm and nostalgia; this film does not.
Our protagonist is young FBI agent Lee Harker (Maika Munroe), who has a hidden talent or two. She is tasked with solving a gruesome string of murders, alongside her paint-by-numbers FBI colleague Agent Carter (Blair Underwood), all the while attempting to have some kind of relationship with her detached mother (Alicia Witt). The antagonist is, of course, the titular character (Nic Cage), although how he is involved in these murders is a mystery. And so, with this threadbare plot, the filmmakers start ticking off their list of horror cliches: Creepy dolls? Check. Freaky mother? Check. Isolated house in the middle of nowhere? Check. Lots of heavy breathing? Check. All key scenes set at night for no obvious reason? Check. "It's behind you"? Check. And it goes on.
Despite this threadbare plot, Maika Munroe does very well to introduce some degree of intrigue and curiousness with her portrayal of the troubled Agent Harker. Indeed she must be commended for reminding me of Jodie Foster in Silence of the Lambs in only about half of her scenes. Blair Underwood's Agent Carter is the stereotypical FBI agent you've seen in every TV crime drama out there. Alicia Witt was presumably channelling, if not outright copying, Dee Wallace in the Frighteners.
Ok, fine. But this film is all about Nic Cage, right? His portrayal of the serial killer antagonist will save the day, right? Well, not really. No-one plays weird and freaky like Nic, but usually there's a depth to his portrayals - some aspect that he brings to the character that offers some meaning behind the weirdness, or at least adds some humour to it. That is lacking here, and the result is that the character's mannerisms appear performative and silly. His character never gains any backstory, any clear motive, reason, logic or explanation for his actions, and so is left rudderless and unfinished - and no amount of hamming it up by Nic can resolve this.
Of course, and ever so predictably, the film ends with a denouement, a series of revelations that is meant to tie up all of the loose ends of the plot, but which fails to plug many of the film's glaring plot holes. In an otherwise good film, this might be intriguing or annoying, but by this point I really didn't care either way.
The overall result is a film that has been done before, and done better. Nic Cage has promised that he won't be revisiting the character, and for that we should all be grateful.
The clues come very early in the film. In the first scene, a young girl stands in the snow-covered back garden of her home, looking for the sound that attracted her. She looks left: nothing. She looks right: nothing. Then a quick cut with a loud musical cue to Longlegs, standing in front of her. The musical cue implies this is meant to be terrifying, but it was not; it was a tedious and predictable horror trope, and as the film progresses it delves into the stockroom of well-worn horror cliches more and more. Some films manage to do this with a sense of charm and nostalgia; this film does not.
Our protagonist is young FBI agent Lee Harker (Maika Munroe), who has a hidden talent or two. She is tasked with solving a gruesome string of murders, alongside her paint-by-numbers FBI colleague Agent Carter (Blair Underwood), all the while attempting to have some kind of relationship with her detached mother (Alicia Witt). The antagonist is, of course, the titular character (Nic Cage), although how he is involved in these murders is a mystery. And so, with this threadbare plot, the filmmakers start ticking off their list of horror cliches: Creepy dolls? Check. Freaky mother? Check. Isolated house in the middle of nowhere? Check. Lots of heavy breathing? Check. All key scenes set at night for no obvious reason? Check. "It's behind you"? Check. And it goes on.
Despite this threadbare plot, Maika Munroe does very well to introduce some degree of intrigue and curiousness with her portrayal of the troubled Agent Harker. Indeed she must be commended for reminding me of Jodie Foster in Silence of the Lambs in only about half of her scenes. Blair Underwood's Agent Carter is the stereotypical FBI agent you've seen in every TV crime drama out there. Alicia Witt was presumably channelling, if not outright copying, Dee Wallace in the Frighteners.
Ok, fine. But this film is all about Nic Cage, right? His portrayal of the serial killer antagonist will save the day, right? Well, not really. No-one plays weird and freaky like Nic, but usually there's a depth to his portrayals - some aspect that he brings to the character that offers some meaning behind the weirdness, or at least adds some humour to it. That is lacking here, and the result is that the character's mannerisms appear performative and silly. His character never gains any backstory, any clear motive, reason, logic or explanation for his actions, and so is left rudderless and unfinished - and no amount of hamming it up by Nic can resolve this.
Of course, and ever so predictably, the film ends with a denouement, a series of revelations that is meant to tie up all of the loose ends of the plot, but which fails to plug many of the film's glaring plot holes. In an otherwise good film, this might be intriguing or annoying, but by this point I really didn't care either way.
The overall result is a film that has been done before, and done better. Nic Cage has promised that he won't be revisiting the character, and for that we should all be grateful.