guns and shuttles
So I finally got to see Wanted.
In one sentence?
It seemed slightly crappy for a good long while, then got interesting in the third act, had a brilliant final scene, and ended on possibly one of the best last lines of a movie ever! I mean, seriously. I think the last five minutes pretty much made the entire movie for me. And on the bus home, as I thought about it more, I realised I have to see it again because omigod I think it was kind of brilliant in retrospect. That sort of retrospective dawning of "holy fuck, the layering of that screenplay and the structure ... did they seriously just do that? I think they did. Good god! I need to watch it again."
Shoulda known to trust the director of Night Watch, really. Timur Bekmambetov. *repeats it, commits it to memory cos I can't keep calling him the director of night watch* Shoulda known to trust McAvoy's judgement. Cos when I have not enjoyed one of his movies? I mean, really.
Oh he was just too fucking cool. I mean, he ended up being so fucking cool. Cos he really wasn't at the start. I didn't mind the cynicism and the apathy, that sort of antiheroism is total love-inducing for me. But the babbling was a bit stupid and I absolutely loathed the American accent, no matter how flawless his inflection and speech rhythms. I just kept flinching at that accent coming out of that face and kept thinking "Jesus Christ, McAvoy, talk NORMAL, would you?!" But I guess it was necessary for a Hollywood action blockbuster. *sigh*
I don't think I ever fully got used to it but by the time he delivered that totally awesome last line, I didn't care. I was too shocked with delight.
And I rather liked how anti-cliche it was, in that he didn't end up with the hot chick, in that the morality was completely muddied and uneasy by the end. But see, all that was by the end. When it first began, all the cliches were lined up and I didn't know enough to trust that they would all be thoroughly routed.
They certainly worked the fate/individualism theme for all it was worth, extracted as much grey out of it as possible. Which I really admired. Even though I kind of realised in the third act that I didn't like any of these people, didn't really feel a bond to any of them. Except Wesley. Which was a bit unnerving but I'm not saying that was necessarily bad.
God, I need to watch it again. I need to own it and peruse it and analyse it and think about it a lot more.
And I loved how Timur saturated the colours just enough so McAvoy's eyes were always very blue and every blue he wore was always very blue and all the reds were very red. It wasn't as hyperreal as, say, Hellboy --- holy fuck, that looks so awesome! --- or as stylised as Sin City but just enough to remind you of the comic book origins, of the whole archetypal concept. And the touch of dust in that final showdown was marvellous as was the shot of Wesley tangled in the skeins and the excellent gorgeosity of the gore without being too gross. Well, I didn't think it was gross. It was just right for me.
And wasn't that the same actor who played my darling Anton in Night Watch? Yes, it was! *squee* I knew I knew those eyes.
Jolie was perfect, struck just the right balance of chilling and charming and oh so capable. And man, it was awesome to finally see her tattoos displayed to full effect and then some. Yes, I did have some fun pinpointing the ones I knew were real and the ones I was fairly certain were added. Yep, they were. Although, yeah, I did think the nudity was a tad gratuitous. Okay, one part of me was thinking that. The rest of me was just awestruck.
But oh yeah, McAvoy's film all the way. And god love 'im, he worked it perfect. Almost a little too well, really. To the point of me being slightly exasperated at his wussy self in the beginning and then absolutely delighted at the transformation. Mind you, I couldn't quite get used to the bulging muscles either, especially since I could kinda see the muscles straining against the office shirt before he got fully recruited.
As I said in the McAvoy comm a few weeks ago, the body just doesn't match the face for me. I'm like "noooooo ... puny pale Scottish body, I love puny pale Scottish body!" Like someone had pasted his head onto some Hollywood beefcake body and put an American voice in that lovely prissy mouth, no less. Nooooooooooo! MY McAvoy! *clings, remembers Anne-Marie, clings to icon instead*
I could write it off as eye candy which is certainly how I approached it. But now I have a sneaking suspicion it was actually a lot cleverer and far better written than I could absorb at the time, what with the high action and the mindboggling pace and the (holy god!) McAvoy on a big screen.
Totally exhilarating. I came out of that theatre, feeling like a fucking superhero myself. Whee!
And oh yeah, considering I spent all day listening to NIN, it was all kinds of freaky to recognise the very first song in the film as the first song I reference in my own damned novel. So there I was watching McAvoy and hearing Trez. Nnnnghhhh!
In one sentence?
It seemed slightly crappy for a good long while, then got interesting in the third act, had a brilliant final scene, and ended on possibly one of the best last lines of a movie ever! I mean, seriously. I think the last five minutes pretty much made the entire movie for me. And on the bus home, as I thought about it more, I realised I have to see it again because omigod I think it was kind of brilliant in retrospect. That sort of retrospective dawning of "holy fuck, the layering of that screenplay and the structure ... did they seriously just do that? I think they did. Good god! I need to watch it again."
Shoulda known to trust the director of Night Watch, really. Timur Bekmambetov. *repeats it, commits it to memory cos I can't keep calling him the director of night watch* Shoulda known to trust McAvoy's judgement. Cos when I have not enjoyed one of his movies? I mean, really.
Oh he was just too fucking cool. I mean, he ended up being so fucking cool. Cos he really wasn't at the start. I didn't mind the cynicism and the apathy, that sort of antiheroism is total love-inducing for me. But the babbling was a bit stupid and I absolutely loathed the American accent, no matter how flawless his inflection and speech rhythms. I just kept flinching at that accent coming out of that face and kept thinking "Jesus Christ, McAvoy, talk NORMAL, would you?!" But I guess it was necessary for a Hollywood action blockbuster. *sigh*
I don't think I ever fully got used to it but by the time he delivered that totally awesome last line, I didn't care. I was too shocked with delight.
And I rather liked how anti-cliche it was, in that he didn't end up with the hot chick, in that the morality was completely muddied and uneasy by the end. But see, all that was by the end. When it first began, all the cliches were lined up and I didn't know enough to trust that they would all be thoroughly routed.
They certainly worked the fate/individualism theme for all it was worth, extracted as much grey out of it as possible. Which I really admired. Even though I kind of realised in the third act that I didn't like any of these people, didn't really feel a bond to any of them. Except Wesley. Which was a bit unnerving but I'm not saying that was necessarily bad.
God, I need to watch it again. I need to own it and peruse it and analyse it and think about it a lot more.
And I loved how Timur saturated the colours just enough so McAvoy's eyes were always very blue and every blue he wore was always very blue and all the reds were very red. It wasn't as hyperreal as, say, Hellboy --- holy fuck, that looks so awesome! --- or as stylised as Sin City but just enough to remind you of the comic book origins, of the whole archetypal concept. And the touch of dust in that final showdown was marvellous as was the shot of Wesley tangled in the skeins and the excellent gorgeosity of the gore without being too gross. Well, I didn't think it was gross. It was just right for me.
And wasn't that the same actor who played my darling Anton in Night Watch? Yes, it was! *squee* I knew I knew those eyes.
Jolie was perfect, struck just the right balance of chilling and charming and oh so capable. And man, it was awesome to finally see her tattoos displayed to full effect and then some. Yes, I did have some fun pinpointing the ones I knew were real and the ones I was fairly certain were added. Yep, they were. Although, yeah, I did think the nudity was a tad gratuitous. Okay, one part of me was thinking that. The rest of me was just awestruck.
But oh yeah, McAvoy's film all the way. And god love 'im, he worked it perfect. Almost a little too well, really. To the point of me being slightly exasperated at his wussy self in the beginning and then absolutely delighted at the transformation. Mind you, I couldn't quite get used to the bulging muscles either, especially since I could kinda see the muscles straining against the office shirt before he got fully recruited.
As I said in the McAvoy comm a few weeks ago, the body just doesn't match the face for me. I'm like "noooooo ... puny pale Scottish body, I love puny pale Scottish body!" Like someone had pasted his head onto some Hollywood beefcake body and put an American voice in that lovely prissy mouth, no less. Nooooooooooo! MY McAvoy! *clings, remembers Anne-Marie, clings to icon instead*
I could write it off as eye candy which is certainly how I approached it. But now I have a sneaking suspicion it was actually a lot cleverer and far better written than I could absorb at the time, what with the high action and the mindboggling pace and the (holy god!) McAvoy on a big screen.
Totally exhilarating. I came out of that theatre, feeling like a fucking superhero myself. Whee!
And oh yeah, considering I spent all day listening to NIN, it was all kinds of freaky to recognise the very first song in the film as the first song I reference in my own damned novel. So there I was watching McAvoy and hearing Trez. Nnnnghhhh!