Harsh light.
People shouting.
Tobacco spat.
Nasty Sheriff.
Empty headed.
Leatherface. Blood flows.
Teen deaths.
Michael Bay.
Exec. Produced.
Soul destroying.
Modern horror.
Sado-slant.
Cash cow.
Artistic vacuum.
Provoked nausea.
Wrong reasons.
Screaming boys.
Screaming girls.
Screaming Mo.
Bad film.
Eyes blink.
Head hurts.
End this.
Sorrowed heart.
Tears flow.
Film ends.
Mo sighs.
Hangs head.
Death prayer.
Lights out.
1 out of 5
Showing posts with label Michael Bay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Bay. Show all posts
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Saturday, 24 July 2010
A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010) Dir: Samuel Bayer
Michael Bay's attempt to remake every horror movie of worth from the late seventies, early eighties continues apace with this reinvention of the dream-killer classic.
For those familiar with the original, no description of the plot is necessary, but for the four humans in the Western world who haven't seen it, here's a summary:
[spoiler]Freddy Krueger, a paedophile praying on the kids of Elm Street, is hounded out of town by their angry parents, trapped in a boiler room and burnt to death.
But that's not the end of him.
Oh no.
He returns, a maniac wielding a rather nifty blade fingered glove, to continue his child stalking, only this time in their dreams. For the Elm Streeters, there is only one way to live: Do not fall asleep.[/spoiler]
The updated version has the exact same plot. Indeed, this is a fairly faithful adaptation, with most of the major set-pieces present and correct, as well as some of the character names. Krueger himself looks great, his face a patchwork of scar tissue and gaping holes in his cheeks you can see through, and the actor does a decent enough job with the rather limited material he was given to work with.
So it must be great if it's exactly the same as the source material.
Right?
Wrong.
When producing the movie, Butcher Bay forgot one crucial element, as is his tendency: atmosphere. The 1984 movie has gallons of the stuff, dripping from the screen, whereas here everything is anaemic and feels almost sterile. It's dull, too, to the point that I started thinking about other things about half way through - why the fluff between my toes is black when I only wear pink socks, how long could I survive eating nothing but Haribo Starmix, just exactly what is the meat in crab flavoured sticks? - and only really tuned back in for the Krueger backstory and the odd moment of gristle, and the ending itself is so abrupt you actually think 'Huh? Is that it?'
Whilst not as gut-crunchingly awful as I was expecting, I wouldn't recommend anyone go see it.
Do yourself a favour: Rent / download / steal / borrow the original instead, you'll have way more fun.
3 out of 5
For those familiar with the original, no description of the plot is necessary, but for the four humans in the Western world who haven't seen it, here's a summary:
[spoiler]Freddy Krueger, a paedophile praying on the kids of Elm Street, is hounded out of town by their angry parents, trapped in a boiler room and burnt to death.
But that's not the end of him.
Oh no.
He returns, a maniac wielding a rather nifty blade fingered glove, to continue his child stalking, only this time in their dreams. For the Elm Streeters, there is only one way to live: Do not fall asleep.[/spoiler]
The updated version has the exact same plot. Indeed, this is a fairly faithful adaptation, with most of the major set-pieces present and correct, as well as some of the character names. Krueger himself looks great, his face a patchwork of scar tissue and gaping holes in his cheeks you can see through, and the actor does a decent enough job with the rather limited material he was given to work with.
So it must be great if it's exactly the same as the source material.
Right?
Wrong.
When producing the movie, Butcher Bay forgot one crucial element, as is his tendency: atmosphere. The 1984 movie has gallons of the stuff, dripping from the screen, whereas here everything is anaemic and feels almost sterile. It's dull, too, to the point that I started thinking about other things about half way through - why the fluff between my toes is black when I only wear pink socks, how long could I survive eating nothing but Haribo Starmix, just exactly what is the meat in crab flavoured sticks? - and only really tuned back in for the Krueger backstory and the odd moment of gristle, and the ending itself is so abrupt you actually think 'Huh? Is that it?'
Whilst not as gut-crunchingly awful as I was expecting, I wouldn't recommend anyone go see it.
Do yourself a favour: Rent / download / steal / borrow the original instead, you'll have way more fun.
3 out of 5
Transformers (2007) Dir. Michael Bay
Seriously folks, if I could give a movie a zero rating, I would.
This is dire from beginning to end.
Michael Bay, a man seemingly hellbent on forging a directorial career that consists of nothing but smearing excrement across a cinema screen brings to life the nostalgic mecha-dudes of yore, The Transformers.
If you are of an age, the very mention of the word Transformers brings a teary glisten to the eye, and you hurtle mentally back to days playing in a friends bedroom with the robot warriors, trying to decide if Jazz was cooler than Bumble Bee.
If you were hoping to recapture those carefree days with this, forget it.
In an incredible accomplishment, Bay manages to spunk forth some five hundred gazillion dollars on this feature, rendering unto the screen a lifeless, soulless, uninspiring mess of a movie.
CGI overload is a frequent hazard, but it is the woeful script that really shines through, in all the wrong ways.
Alleged 'comedy' moments leave you squirming in embarrassment, unsure whether to laugh at the ineptitude of the lines on offer or piss blood from your own eyeballs and, worse still, we have the cardinal sin of weak script writing whereby every single black character is 'wacky', 'loud' and 'zany', as well as being overweight, outdated representations of the Whassup brothers from the Budweiser adverts.
Come on guys, you can do better than that.
Outrageously awful in every respect, I genuinely hope, and I don't say this lightly, that Bay is struck down with some form of visual impairment, to prevent him despoiling future projects so capably. Nothing life threatening, just enough to prevent him directing. Ever. Again.
Terrifyingly, the sequel is even worse and, more frightening still, Bay is down as producer on the Nightmare on Elm Street remake. Holy shit.
A truly dreadful movie.
This is dire from beginning to end.
Michael Bay, a man seemingly hellbent on forging a directorial career that consists of nothing but smearing excrement across a cinema screen brings to life the nostalgic mecha-dudes of yore, The Transformers.
If you are of an age, the very mention of the word Transformers brings a teary glisten to the eye, and you hurtle mentally back to days playing in a friends bedroom with the robot warriors, trying to decide if Jazz was cooler than Bumble Bee.
If you were hoping to recapture those carefree days with this, forget it.
In an incredible accomplishment, Bay manages to spunk forth some five hundred gazillion dollars on this feature, rendering unto the screen a lifeless, soulless, uninspiring mess of a movie.
CGI overload is a frequent hazard, but it is the woeful script that really shines through, in all the wrong ways.
Alleged 'comedy' moments leave you squirming in embarrassment, unsure whether to laugh at the ineptitude of the lines on offer or piss blood from your own eyeballs and, worse still, we have the cardinal sin of weak script writing whereby every single black character is 'wacky', 'loud' and 'zany', as well as being overweight, outdated representations of the Whassup brothers from the Budweiser adverts.
Come on guys, you can do better than that.
Outrageously awful in every respect, I genuinely hope, and I don't say this lightly, that Bay is struck down with some form of visual impairment, to prevent him despoiling future projects so capably. Nothing life threatening, just enough to prevent him directing. Ever. Again.
Terrifyingly, the sequel is even worse and, more frightening still, Bay is down as producer on the Nightmare on Elm Street remake. Holy shit.
A truly dreadful movie.
The Mist (2007) Dir. Frank Darabont
Based on a novella by Stephen King first published in the anthology Dark Forces this is, quite simply, an astonishing movie. Directed by Frank Darabont, a man with a clear love of King's output (The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile were also adaptations of King's work), this is bleak, thought provoking and challenging movie making.
The plot: A small town in Maine (where else?) suffers a severe thunderstorm, with trees blown down and general chaos wrought. The following day, the locals are packing the supermarket, picking up supplies to clear up the weather borne detritus when a mist rolls into town from the nearby hills, with one man racing into the supermarket, blood dripping from his face, claiming that there is 'something' in the mist. The natives are skeptical, right up to the point when tentacles emerge and snatch one of their own from under their noses. The place is locked down, with stocks piled up against the glass front of the building but, within, a new threat emerges: a vehemently religious woman who claims it is God's vengeance for our impure ways.
Tense, with an atmosphere so sharp you could shave a fourteen year olds scrotum with it, this is less a monster movie and more a focus on the extremes we will go to when pushed.
Several things about this movie stand out and elevate it above standard 'creature feature' status, not least of which are the performances. A cast of relative unknowns deliver excellent, believable portrayals of normal folk in peril, and the heart strings are plucked throughout, though in an intelligent, logical way, not in a 'make's you want to puke out your own kidneys' sense.
Darabont makes fine use of lighting and, crucially, the score is an accompaniment, not the dominant feature, adding substance to scenes rather than overwhelming them, something that the Michael Bay's and Zack Snyder's of this world would do well to note.
It's impossible to talk about this movie without mentioning the ending (I won't ruin it, but skip the next sentence if you'd rather know nothing) which is nothing short of astonishing. Poignant, heart wrenching and with such humanity it brings a tear to the eye, something few, if any, horror movies achieve.
Whilst delivering the goods in terms of gore and violence, this movie is so much more than that and one I would recommend to all, not just the usual sick in the head blood fiends.
You know who you are.
The plot: A small town in Maine (where else?) suffers a severe thunderstorm, with trees blown down and general chaos wrought. The following day, the locals are packing the supermarket, picking up supplies to clear up the weather borne detritus when a mist rolls into town from the nearby hills, with one man racing into the supermarket, blood dripping from his face, claiming that there is 'something' in the mist. The natives are skeptical, right up to the point when tentacles emerge and snatch one of their own from under their noses. The place is locked down, with stocks piled up against the glass front of the building but, within, a new threat emerges: a vehemently religious woman who claims it is God's vengeance for our impure ways.
Tense, with an atmosphere so sharp you could shave a fourteen year olds scrotum with it, this is less a monster movie and more a focus on the extremes we will go to when pushed.
Several things about this movie stand out and elevate it above standard 'creature feature' status, not least of which are the performances. A cast of relative unknowns deliver excellent, believable portrayals of normal folk in peril, and the heart strings are plucked throughout, though in an intelligent, logical way, not in a 'make's you want to puke out your own kidneys' sense.
Darabont makes fine use of lighting and, crucially, the score is an accompaniment, not the dominant feature, adding substance to scenes rather than overwhelming them, something that the Michael Bay's and Zack Snyder's of this world would do well to note.
It's impossible to talk about this movie without mentioning the ending (I won't ruin it, but skip the next sentence if you'd rather know nothing) which is nothing short of astonishing. Poignant, heart wrenching and with such humanity it brings a tear to the eye, something few, if any, horror movies achieve.
Whilst delivering the goods in terms of gore and violence, this movie is so much more than that and one I would recommend to all, not just the usual sick in the head blood fiends.
You know who you are.
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