Here's something you might be interested in.
John Rubio piles on the John Carter Meh-Train this week, but first... 21 Jumpstreet? Did we learn nothing from the film version of The A Team? Namely: '80s TV shows had the self-parody built right in. Making a parody is not only redundant, it threatens to activate the singularity.
Notes Rubio: "The problem is not that 'they don’t make them like they used to.' The problem is that they continue to make them about what they used to, and they continue to make them the way they do now.
"The school of original thought has become so vapid in the case of remakes that even the 'updated' versions mock their own lack of ingenuity. As the police captain in this film explains: 'We’re just recycling old crap and assuming no one will notice.'” Sigh.
Now, on to Mars with John Carter! Rubio is quick to point out the worst and best aspects. First the worst: "The plot is a mess — something to do with divine creatures who manage the progression of the cosmos by meddling in mortal affairs, sort of a violent Adjustment Bureau
"In this case, they are determined to forge a false alliance between two warring races on Mars (no discernible difference between the races other than their names). The reason for all this blather is never made known, nor does it seem to matter."
And the best? "Lynn Collins, as a Martian princess, elevates her role as the beautiful love interest. She is intelligent, alluring, and courageous — qualities that serve to make her more beautiful, more sultry, more captivating. She’s easy to get lost in."
Finally, Let the Bullets Fly, a film that threatens to undo my earlier claim about parodies: "The grand shootouts that are garden variety in John Woo flicks are here used to highlight the levity — the same silly action employed ironically to parody its own silliness." Shucks.
In the capsules: Undefeated, A Thousand Words, The Forgiveness of Blood.
Pictured: Let the Bullets Fly
John Rubio piles on the John Carter Meh-Train this week, but first... 21 Jumpstreet? Did we learn nothing from the film version of The A Team? Namely: '80s TV shows had the self-parody built right in. Making a parody is not only redundant, it threatens to activate the singularity.
Notes Rubio: "The problem is not that 'they don’t make them like they used to.' The problem is that they continue to make them about what they used to, and they continue to make them the way they do now.
"The school of original thought has become so vapid in the case of remakes that even the 'updated' versions mock their own lack of ingenuity. As the police captain in this film explains: 'We’re just recycling old crap and assuming no one will notice.'” Sigh.
Now, on to Mars with John Carter! Rubio is quick to point out the worst and best aspects. First the worst: "The plot is a mess — something to do with divine creatures who manage the progression of the cosmos by meddling in mortal affairs, sort of a violent Adjustment Bureau
"In this case, they are determined to forge a false alliance between two warring races on Mars (no discernible difference between the races other than their names). The reason for all this blather is never made known, nor does it seem to matter."
And the best? "Lynn Collins, as a Martian princess, elevates her role as the beautiful love interest. She is intelligent, alluring, and courageous — qualities that serve to make her more beautiful, more sultry, more captivating. She’s easy to get lost in."
Finally, Let the Bullets Fly, a film that threatens to undo my earlier claim about parodies: "The grand shootouts that are garden variety in John Woo flicks are here used to highlight the levity — the same silly action employed ironically to parody its own silliness." Shucks.
In the capsules: Undefeated, A Thousand Words, The Forgiveness of Blood.
Pictured: Let the Bullets Fly