Plotting the Perfect Sunday
Yesterday was as close to an ideal Sunday as I'm likely to get nowadays. I did nothing but sit around and watch movies, all of which I had never seen and had been wanting to watch. A little note before I get started. This is going to contain spoilers for The Mist, Milk, and half of Slumdog Millionaire, in that order. So be forewarned. I'll try to keep them grouped with their respective film just in case you actually want to read part of my rambling but don't want to be spoiled on one or two movies.
Ok, The Mist. I really, really wanted to see this when it came out in theaters, but I am so fucking glad I didn't. I could barely handle it on the small screen. It is, without a doubt, one of the most upsetting horror films I've seen in recent history.
I read the Stephen King story it was based on. It was pretty freaky, but I loved it. The movie, surprisingly, followed the book pretty closely from what I can remember. But for once the movie managed to outdo my imagination on the OMFGWTFNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! scale. Everything about it made me so uncomfortable. From the very beginning when the tentacles took the stock boy, ripping at his chest, I knew it wasn't going to be a typical popcorn munching sort of horror flick.
Everything that happened, I don't know... maybe it just felt to raw and real for me. Maybe I'm going soft. I was a little freaked out by a scene in The Happening a while back with a guy in a lion cage, so maybe I just don't have the stomach I used to. But my visceral reaction to that was nowhere near as strong as the one I had to The Mist. Every time someone was injured, they seemed intent on showing the suffering in full detail. When the injury came from the creatures, it was disconcerting. When it came from other people, the mob mentality getting in full swing, it was downright traumatic.
Oh, and the spider scene? Fuck no. Fuck. No.
Also, to sort of spoil the end of the book for you while I'm at it, the movie makes it much, much worse. The end of the book is vague. The movie... ugh. Thomas Jane doe a hell of job screaming and making you feel awful, but that's as close to positive as I can get. After he, a woman, his son, and two elderly people (the only ones who decided to flee the store where they'd been trapped) run out of gas, they quickly decide suicide is the proper route. No, "Hey, let's wait a bit and see what happens," no, "We're Americans, the calvary is bound to show, right?" Nope, they have four bullets, and being the trooper he is, Thomas Jane decides to play the martyr and blows out the brains of his son, the elderly couple, and his lady friend before tossing himself out of the car as a sacrifice to the beasties.
Then, of course, the calvary shows, all of the assholes from the super market in tow. The best part? The crazy religious bitch ends up looking like she was right. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that???
If you can't tell, I really didn't enjoy it. I sent half my time on ontd_ai freaking out. I feel like I should have liked it more. Usually twists that makes me go "OHMYFUCKNO!" end up making the movies awesome to me. But this? Not so much.
Milk on the other hand did not disappoint. It wasn't what I expected. I assumed Harvey would be painted strictly as a hero. I was kind of shocked by what a 3-dimensional portrait it painted of him. He was a good guy, but he was also human. He fucked up, he was definitely flawed. But aren't those the best kind of role models?
Also, Brolin's portrayal of White? Holy shit. How did he manage to make me almost understand Dan??? For a character like that you almost expect a gay bashing, mustache twirling stereotype. Instead he comes across far more vulnerable and messed up than Harvey ever was. His motives don't seem blatantly prejudice so much as sprung from desperation and whatever underlying psychiatric issues he was struggling with.
By the end, they show Harvey as what he was: a politician. Just a really fucking brave one. I kind of sort of love that. And I really sort of loved every scene between Sean Penn and James Franco. The other man in Harvey's life frankly just bugged the hell out of me. The scene where Harvey finds him dead still made me feel like I was going to have a total break down, but I just never liked him for even a moment of the time he was on screen.
But every moment between Harvey and Scott made me smile. Sometimes it was a sly smirk, other times a wibbly, weepy, barely there grin, but it was always there. The moment where Scott confront Harvey about forcing everyone on his staff to come out was fantastic and real and natural. Every scene with them was. I don't know what else to say there.
And yeah, I cried like a bitch when they showed the people marching for him, I cried like a bitch when they told about what happened to everyone.
Of you haven't seen it, you should. It comes on HBO again Wednesday. Just saying.
Sadly, I can't say much about Slumdog Millionaire. For the second time in a row, I got sleepy and wussed out. Bu at least this time I made it over an hour in. I really, really loved what I saw, but what the fuck is up with the guy blinding the kids with good voices?!?! At first I expected him to neuter them and make them little castratos, but no. I don't even know what to make of that shit. Maybe it's good I went to bed when I did.
My Sundays for the next few weeks are likely going to be busy and icky, so I guess it's good I made the best of his one.
Ok, The Mist. I really, really wanted to see this when it came out in theaters, but I am so fucking glad I didn't. I could barely handle it on the small screen. It is, without a doubt, one of the most upsetting horror films I've seen in recent history.
I read the Stephen King story it was based on. It was pretty freaky, but I loved it. The movie, surprisingly, followed the book pretty closely from what I can remember. But for once the movie managed to outdo my imagination on the OMFGWTFNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! scale. Everything about it made me so uncomfortable. From the very beginning when the tentacles took the stock boy, ripping at his chest, I knew it wasn't going to be a typical popcorn munching sort of horror flick.
Everything that happened, I don't know... maybe it just felt to raw and real for me. Maybe I'm going soft. I was a little freaked out by a scene in The Happening a while back with a guy in a lion cage, so maybe I just don't have the stomach I used to. But my visceral reaction to that was nowhere near as strong as the one I had to The Mist. Every time someone was injured, they seemed intent on showing the suffering in full detail. When the injury came from the creatures, it was disconcerting. When it came from other people, the mob mentality getting in full swing, it was downright traumatic.
Oh, and the spider scene? Fuck no. Fuck. No.
Also, to sort of spoil the end of the book for you while I'm at it, the movie makes it much, much worse. The end of the book is vague. The movie... ugh. Thomas Jane doe a hell of job screaming and making you feel awful, but that's as close to positive as I can get. After he, a woman, his son, and two elderly people (the only ones who decided to flee the store where they'd been trapped) run out of gas, they quickly decide suicide is the proper route. No, "Hey, let's wait a bit and see what happens," no, "We're Americans, the calvary is bound to show, right?" Nope, they have four bullets, and being the trooper he is, Thomas Jane decides to play the martyr and blows out the brains of his son, the elderly couple, and his lady friend before tossing himself out of the car as a sacrifice to the beasties.
Then, of course, the calvary shows, all of the assholes from the super market in tow. The best part? The crazy religious bitch ends up looking like she was right. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that???
If you can't tell, I really didn't enjoy it. I sent half my time on ontd_ai freaking out. I feel like I should have liked it more. Usually twists that makes me go "OHMYFUCKNO!" end up making the movies awesome to me. But this? Not so much.
Milk on the other hand did not disappoint. It wasn't what I expected. I assumed Harvey would be painted strictly as a hero. I was kind of shocked by what a 3-dimensional portrait it painted of him. He was a good guy, but he was also human. He fucked up, he was definitely flawed. But aren't those the best kind of role models?
Also, Brolin's portrayal of White? Holy shit. How did he manage to make me almost understand Dan??? For a character like that you almost expect a gay bashing, mustache twirling stereotype. Instead he comes across far more vulnerable and messed up than Harvey ever was. His motives don't seem blatantly prejudice so much as sprung from desperation and whatever underlying psychiatric issues he was struggling with.
By the end, they show Harvey as what he was: a politician. Just a really fucking brave one. I kind of sort of love that. And I really sort of loved every scene between Sean Penn and James Franco. The other man in Harvey's life frankly just bugged the hell out of me. The scene where Harvey finds him dead still made me feel like I was going to have a total break down, but I just never liked him for even a moment of the time he was on screen.
But every moment between Harvey and Scott made me smile. Sometimes it was a sly smirk, other times a wibbly, weepy, barely there grin, but it was always there. The moment where Scott confront Harvey about forcing everyone on his staff to come out was fantastic and real and natural. Every scene with them was. I don't know what else to say there.
And yeah, I cried like a bitch when they showed the people marching for him, I cried like a bitch when they told about what happened to everyone.
Of you haven't seen it, you should. It comes on HBO again Wednesday. Just saying.
Sadly, I can't say much about Slumdog Millionaire. For the second time in a row, I got sleepy and wussed out. Bu at least this time I made it over an hour in. I really, really loved what I saw, but what the fuck is up with the guy blinding the kids with good voices?!?! At first I expected him to neuter them and make them little castratos, but no. I don't even know what to make of that shit. Maybe it's good I went to bed when I did.
My Sundays for the next few weeks are likely going to be busy and icky, so I guess it's good I made the best of his one.