Letters To Films

Dear Burn After Reading,

There’s a particular pleasure from watching a film that’s well made, and even though I don’t always get on with the Cohen brothers take on the world, and their usual leisurely pace (this film doesn’t suffer from that too much), the simple fact remains that they put their films together well.  Every line of dialogue or lingering shot reeks of quality and thought.  Just hearing good dialogue in a cinema these days is like a breath of fresh air.

Of course, the world they provide is one where the nicest people die the nastiest deaths and the idiot manipulators get what they wanted from the beginning.  It’s a world where the god-character, sitting behind his desk just wants it to make sense, and is more concerned with making the mess go away than with justice.  By the way, if you want to have a character announce what the moral is at the end of a film, this is exactly and deliciously how it should be done.  I hope you’re paying attention Wanted.

This is what the Cohens seem to have been born for, highlighting subtle humour in a violent, sinister and ultimately idiotic world, and they do it amazingly well.

I should really give this film a higher score since it’s so beautifully crafted, but I can’t avoid the fact that I am negatively affected by misery and unjust suffering, regardless of the humour of the frame its put in.

Yours

Someone who wishes more films had your skill.

Dear Eagle Eye,

After seeing Shia LaBeouf recently in the shockingly poor Indiana Jones and the Pointless Aliens, I was pleased to see that with you he did a decent job.  (There was an irritation - that ‘gulp’ when told he was in trouble was such a cliche that I had to laugh).

You opened well, with a scene that conveyed more subtlety than we’re used to in war, although the electronic intelligence was overdone, and the human intelligence played down.  Given the theme of the film, I can forgive that. I also enjoyed the introduction of the main character and his relationships, not too long, but you established the character well.

The confused hero being thust into a meticulous plan is a lovely device, it was fun in Paycheck, and good here.  The over the top car chases diminished that slightly - and our heros really did spend a bit too long running and having cars blow up around them, but the biggest mark against was that large chunks of the plot seemed to be lifted from other films.  The omniscient spying central computer was very I Robot, but there were also shades of Enemy of the State, Wargames, 2001, in fact you borrowed heavily from practically every other film where a computer runs amok.   Even the action sequences, which is where this kind of film is supposed to bring something a little new involved first an air vehicle flying through a tunnel (it was silly in Mission Impossible and seems to be increasingly common), and eventually it’s taken down by a policeman in a car which must have made everyone think of the recent Die Hard film.

And as for the old ‘assasination/bomb at a concert triggered by the final notes’.  The reason Get Smart (the recent film) did it was because Get Smart is a spoof, and it’s a well worn cliche, worth making fun of.  You take yourself too seriously to be a spoof, so you should have chosen a different climax to the assasination attempt.

There were philosophical problems at the heart of the plot too, and whole interesting avenues that were not explored.  What appeared to be an attempt to make a serious point about how the technology we rely on (and the surveillance apparatus we’ve come to accept) can be used against us, was blighted by the lack of a plausible presentation of an alternative way to live, and compromised by the fact that the threat itself was a computer laughably more sophisticated than anything we could hope to build in the foreseeable future.  Perhaps that’s why it seemed to have to live in a ridiculous X-men style Cerebro room.  The bizarre justification for this was something incoherent to do with beamed infrared data and large amounts of water were never explained (the cooling is done with liquid nitrogen). I suppose the Pentagon has never heard of wifi, or the fact that a computer doesn’t need to move a globe around to focus its attention somewhere.

The ambiguous sophistication level of the computer was a problem too.  The idea that a computer with that much power would be unable to spot and decode morse when it was used is ridiculous, as was the fact that any computer able to plan what it did would miss the obvious step of having the policeman and army personel investigating mysteriously reassigned or imprisoned on trumped up charges, if only for a short time.   I enjoyed the idea of a computer routing around a biometric (and personality profile -it knew the brother could not be manipulated) lock by using a twin, although again, it seemed very odd that it had so much control over the external systems in the world, and so little control over its own security subsystems.

Jerry, the central character had been nicely set up, but nothing was made of his character.  We knew that he was a smooth talker, well travelled, underemployed, intelligent and with something to prove, but none of these attributes were ever used.  When he finally came face to face with Aria, I was expecting him to hit it with a philosophical argument (hinging on the constitution that it claimed as its prime directive) that would at least give it pause a la Dark Star, but nothing of the sort transpired.  Apparently a crow bar is more effective.

What of the question as to whether Aria was right?  Perhaps the world would be better if the USA was governed by a computer.  The idea that perhaps the president really was a liablity that should be removed for the good of the country was never seriously entertained by anyone except the computer, and its amoral actions naturally lead us to discount this possibility, although I think that recent presidents make it at least a defensible viewpoint that Aria holds.  Since its concern was the deaths of innocent USAians, shouldn’t there have been some acknowledgement of the deaths its own plans cost?   By the way, I loved the moment that Secretary of Defense is told that he’s been chosen to be the new puppet president.

How much better if ARIA had been the good guy - perhaps it had worked out a true internal threat to the USA and was trying to foil for example, a CIA assasination attempt against the president, or if the people behind the voice had been a bunch of Amish cyber-terrorists, or that it had been the vice president, controlling everything and manipulating the president and silencing dissent through his secret surveillance apparatus.

What about the question of whether humans should try to create autonomous intelligent programs?  We’re warned often enough about the dangers, but do we believe them?  Should such investigations be stopped because of the fear of creating a monster?  Do we really need to be scared of what our creations might do?

Was crowbarring ARIA a murder?  Nobody seemed to care - no wonder it was sociopathic - created by the Department of Defense to oversee killings of foreigners, without a friend in the world, and nobody it could convince through the power of argument to take its side.

Yours,

Someone who thinks you started strong, but finished weakly.

P.S. Don’t  you think that someone discharging a weapon into the ceiling near the president would be shot completely and totally dead, not into a part of the body that films assure us are nonlethal?

Dear Man on Wire,

So, you’re a documentary, but also an mediation on the results of obsession, and most interestingly an examination of the relationship between the driven visionary and those who enable him to fulfill his dream.

The basic story - the crazy frenchman walking a line strung between the two towers is planned and described in meticulous detail.  The false starts, the practicing in a field in France. This is the part you tried to sell as a “heist” like movie.  Fascinating though it is, that’s perhaps overselling it.

But the part that interested me is the emotional depth that becomes obvious as the various players are telling the story.  It’s rare that a true story can concentrate so much emotion into such a simple thing.  As one of the heroes of the piece says “something broke on that day”, and while appreciating the aesthetic spectacle of it all, the pain at losing a friend as clearly as if he had fallen never really leaves many of the tellers of the story.

You managed to remain deliciously ambiguous.  Is the american view of heroism, where all can be forgiven the charismatic single genius who manages to achieve his dream, while the necessary supporting cast are expelled from the country, the right one?  After all, as the poetic and philosophical walker Phillipe says, “you have to accept your success”.

Yet, even while giving Phillipe the last word, your whole arrangement seems to me to gently undercut what appears to be his eloquently described philosophy.   And how can you not, when it is apparent the heroism, sacrifice, organisational skill and love the supporting cast had for their friend, without which he could not have achieved anything.

To me, you are a gentle deconstruction of the myth of the single hero.

Thanks,

Someone who thinks Phillippe may have been better with his friends and no fame.

Dear The Dutchess,

While you might be good for those who “like the dresses”, or who have a melancholy disposition, the sheer, messed up, unjust misery of the situation forced on the main character is enormously depressing.  I suppose that you provide a useful educational function- It’s easy to forget just how oppressed women have been in the past, but it’s certainly hard work being reminded by you.

I suppose part of the problem is that your ending is basically “she realised she loved big brother”.  I *know* that women in that kind of situation throughout history have had very little choice but to eventually come to terms with it, but that’s not the kind of woman I want to watch a film about.  I’d rather see the romantic who gives up everything rather than be tamed, or the driven to fiendishness murderess.   How much better if she’d murdered the Duke after realising that it was the only way she could be free, and a film about the morality of the new life she’d chosen.

Ralph Fiennes as the Duke is brilliant.  Somehow he manages to convey so much of the character - that he feels inadequate and threatened by his wifes intelligence, despite saying very little directly.  His behaviour, from our point of view inexcusably evil, is from his point of view clearly the result of a man who considers himself completely honest, doing only what he considers to be his right, and with a certain amount of sympathy for the life he wrecks along the way.

But women don’t get away unstained either, the mothers complicity with the system entraps the naive girl, the friend can’t give up her chance to bring her children up in privilege.

The film itself has problems as well though - it’s also painfully clear that many of the situations call for witty banter, and the script tries to provide it, but falls short.  Wit consists of more than saying that a feathery bird is running for office in the tory party.  Dominic Cooper as Charles Grey also seems an oddly weak and out of place character considering where he fits into the story.

So, you were emotional, draining, and the ending was no resolution.  In fact, I find myself wondering what your message is except maybe “this was a bad way of doing things”.  I accept certain parallels with modern cultures that don’t value girls as much as boys but shouldn’t there be more to a film than “look at how miserable this is”?

I suppose I feel myself to have been preached at.  Perhaps educated a little, but there should have been more.

Yours,

Someone who now needs to watch an action film to get rid of this melancholy.

P.S.  Rape in a 12 certificate?

Dear The Dark Knight (some spoilers),

After more than two and a half hours with you, I felt a bit depressed. I know that this is era when we “reimagine” films that took the visual style of comics, but left the grittiness they had behind, but even so, your balance was off.

I was surprised to find you a bit of a downer, since I enjoyed the last batman film, and I’d heard so many good things about this one.

The thing is, whether cel-shaded or realistic, gritty or stylised, I go to an action-hero film expecting it to obey without exception one rule: the hero should be awesome (or at least become awesome in the course of the film).

You managed to pack into your two and a half hours so many scenes in which the Joker, for all his protestations of planlessness, was the only character in control. Even the tedious deus-ex-machina (in the literal, omnipresent sense as well as the dramatic sense) device to give Batman an intelligence edge was insignificant. In fact the extreme level of meticulous planning by the Joker did border on the ridiculous, something more than a little strange for a self-confessed agent of chaos.

I can’t deny Heath Ledger did a good job (although perhaps a little over hyped?). His Joker was deranged in just the right way, and pretty scary. However, it is hard to swallow the idea that someone could be so devoted to madness and chaos that he wants to do all the things he does, and yet not so mad as to be completely ineffective at them. I think I would have preferred a slightly less effective and in control joker, although he could have been a master of improvisation. At the very most, he could have had a number of small, self contained plans, rather than one grand plan. That would have provided a bit of much needed room for Batman to show some of the heroism that they talk about through the film.

The talking has enough of its own contradictions. I was hoping for a deeper meditation on the dangers of vigilantism and the importance of the rule of law than just a bit of verbal sparring to impress a girl at a restaurant. At the end of the day, the real answer seems to be “it’s bad, unless you’re as pure of heart as Bruce Wayne”. Which is great, except for the fact that it’s a nonanswer - it’s only the good who can be counted on to question the purity of their hearts (although his one rule goes some way to explaining why his breed of vigilantism is not as dangerous as many others, despite his occasional use of torture). And what of the ethical discussion about surveillance? I might agree that it’s “too much power for one man”, but when the seductiveness of that power is barely even acknowledged, it looks more like the reflexive action of a bunch of liberals controlled by the system - as the joker claims, rather than the true, painful sacrifice of an Übermensch for a principle he chooses to believe important. If it really is immoral to wield that power over a prolonged period of time, why is it ok “just this once”, a position strangely in contrast to one of the most famous of ethical laws - Kants categorical imperative.

Partly because of his motivelessness beyond a desire “to see the world burn”, it’s difficult to sympathise with the joker. Shakespeare had difficulty portraying the malignancy of Iago without giving much of a motive (not the only parallel to Shakespeares ‘dark knight’ Othello). The same problem is here. What makes it even harder is his insistence that we should know nothing about him, no matches for fingerprints, no friends or family. Even his tragic history is rewritten on a whim. He’s a man who seems to have nothing but knives, pocket lint and a hard to pin down location. All we really know about him is that he’s obsessed with driving men bad, and that he’s demonically good at it. Still, I do find myself interested in his philosophy, and his social experiments.

Just how would people vote in such a situation? At the beginning of the scene I’d thought to myself, 2/3rds for, 1/3rd against, but thinking about it now, I’m pretty sure that’s optimistic. Funny how I found what happened on the other ship more believable. Perhaps I believe more in the occasional heroism of bad men who know they’re bad than the lowest denominator of a self-righteous democratic crowd.

What should have been the most emotional moment of the film was surprisingly dead for me, I’m not sure why. In fact, more than anything else, it showed what a bad judge of character Bruce Wayne is. His hopes for a vigilantiless fix for the cities crime problem had blinded him to the whole point of institutions. Institutions are there because most people are not heroes, and the few that are might fall. Institutions are there so that no one man has to be the face of good. He should have let the police save their man, and gone after his own friend, and if he’d known what would happen, I’m sure he would have. Batman makes the same bad choice at the end, sacrificing his reputation for a lie he believes is important because of a misunderstanding of the unimportance of individuals inside institutions. It’s the individuals out of the context of institutions that are important. They are the ones whose symbolism can inspire people, and who will cause the most damage by their fall.

Far from being awesome, Batman spends most of this film finding excuses for cowardice and lies. He shows himself to be a follower, not a leader, dangerously susceptible to a cult of personality and there’s no doubt in my mind that the Joker won this one in straight sets.

Yours,

Depressed

Dear Journey To The Centre of The Earth,

You clearly drew an enormous amount of inspiration from the book by Jules Verne, paralleling so much of the story, but as a film there was something missing. Everything was ok, the acting was generally acceptable, but not stellar. It seems to me that something somehow more epic, more frightening and darker could have been made with the same material. I mean come on- an opportunity for underground dinosaurs, storms, cavernal carniverous plants, extinct threats resurrected. How can that not be awesome?

Perhaps you were trying too hard to be kid-friendly, keeping the exciting action to a minimum. Some films do manage to make geological threats scary, but you didn’t, and you shouldn’t have had to (were you duped into thinking that 3d rocks were somehow scarier than 2d rocks?), with all the dangers of the Mesozoic to choose from. Yet you ended up with just a single dinosaur and a single vicious plant? Maybe that’s why you scattered some poor comedy in there too. The only real laugh out loud moment for me was the in-joke about the old 3d-viewer the main character finds in his brothers stuff - “I have no idea what this is”.

Or maybe the problem was with the acting and characterisation. Just because it’s Brendan Fraser doesn’t mean that it’s Ok for him to be an unfit wheezing volcanologist in one scene and Richard O’Connell from the Mummy in the next.

Whatever it was that did it, somehow you ended up just OK as a film.

Fortunately, that wasn’t all you were offering. I’m very interested in 3D displays, but I haven’t watched a film in 3D before, the enjoyment of that (for me) new experience was enough to add another two points to your rating, from 5/10 for the film to 7/10 for the full experience.

The 3D system used was RealD, which uses a single projector, projecting at 144Hz (that’s quite quick), alternating which eye is projected each frame (and multiply projecting each frame, so each eye is only really getting 24Hz), and a circularly polarizing filter in front of it. What the science means is that you wear what appears to be a moderate sized pair of plastic sunglasses (although in case you want to try to use them as sunglasses, warnings are printed onto them that they don’t protect against UV light), which are perfectly comfortable, and because it’s circularly polarized (anticlockwise/clockwise), you get very little cross-talk even if you tilt your head.

It might seem a bit weird wearing dark glasses in a darkened cinema, but it’s fine, and I forgot I was wearing them quite quickly.

It became obvious to me that although I really enjoyed the 3d effect, it was a mixed blessing. Firstly not all of the shots work that well, particularly if the 3d effect is being used to make something out of focus appear closer than the screen, it did make my eyes go a bit funny. Fortunately not too many shots were that bad, but it did highlight that making good 3d shots is a separate skill from normal filming, and perhaps not one that has been developed very highly yet. I suspect that filmmakers think it’s just like normal filming,but in 3d, but it isn’t and demands its own aesthetic.

Perhaps worse, the fact of having the 3d meant that lots of rather unnecessary bits were included, simply for the 3d effect. There was a whole set up of the kid learning to yo-yo, which I was sure was going to be relevant later in the film, but seems to have just been there so they could do 3d shots of the yoyo, and quite a few other scenes that should have been cut, because they were just there to demonstrate the 3d, but actually damaged the whole pacing of the film. I also wonder if filming in 3d constrained the budget for special effects unduly.

Despite these problems, the fact is that 3d shots can create a visceral reaction 2d can’t. When the character brushes his teeth and spits it out over the camera, a shot I’ve seen before in 2d without being impressed, flinches and cries of “ewww”, came from around the cinema. When a spike appears to be sticking out of the screen towards you, people shift in their seats uncomfortably, but to be honest, it was just the normal scenes I liked the most. Most of the time,the action is taking place comfortably in the screen, but just a bit more 3d than normal, and I really liked that. The special scenes where the 3d is being vaunted were fun when they weren’t distracting from the story, but at the end of the day, I would like to see more 3d films made, and the art of making them grow from aiming for novelty (fun though that is), to a serious exploration of the artistic possibilities and limitations of it as a new form of media. I think most films could benefit from being 3d.

Yours,

Someone who thinks your gimmick saved you.

Dear Kung Fu Panda,

It was good to see you the other night. There were so many things I enjoyed. The awkward, fat Panda discovering his true awesomeness (for which apparently, there is ‘no charge’). Tai Lung, the snow leopard was everything a bad guy should be - the kind of guy you lock in a maximum security dedicated prison for years, but he can use any small change to defeat everything. Sheer menace, and with just a tiny flicker of heroism and self awareness to show the tragedy of how great he could have been.

I could almost forgive the ridiculous speed in which Po the Panda goes from klutz to master because in place of the standard montage showing hard work, there was a genius sequence of food based training. It had me chuckling in my seat.

This did highlight a moral weakness though. Your philosophy seems to be “believe in yourself and you can achieve your dream”. On the one hand, we’ve all seen Dumbo, and the million other stories with the same emphasis on how all you need to do is believe in yourself, on the other hand, it obscures an enormous part of the true story. No unfit person (or panda) will become a Kung Fu master with a couple of days of training. Your point seems to be trying to tell obese children that they don’t have to worry about fitness, or years of training, they can excel in their chosen field (even a very physically demanding one) just by “believing in themselves”.

This is a lie.

There is no question that believing in yourself is enormously important. Without at least some measure of self belief, it is very difficult to learn something new, and to stick at it until you become good at it, but the simple truth is that it takes the normal person about 10 years of effortful study to become expert at something, and even if you’re a genius, it will take more than 5. This is why it’s so important to love the process of learning.

I’m not saying that every film that portrays this kind of transformation needs to take at least 5 years, it’s just that without at least a nod to the kind of effort any worthwhile endeavour requires, it devalues the whole goal. No skill worth learning can be mastered in a few days.

There was also some weakness in the backing characters. The villagers were an undifferentiated mass of duracell bunnies and geese (Po seems to be the only Panda, an odd thing that is referred to, but never explained). Monkey was played by Jackie Chan, something I realised when he gave his one (or was it two) lines, of no relation to the plot. It’s funny to have him and Lucy Liu in the film, but only as an in joke. (Strange to have a character play a cameo, when he’s actually in so many of the scenes).

That brings me to the casting of Jack Black. Was he cast just because he’s known to be a bit fat? He was funny, yes, but when it comes to portraying the character, I found it pretty hard to believe at any point that Po was really suffering from self-belief issues. Shame to have the central character undercut the story.

I wonder if the style of the opening dream sequence is a direct reference to “Samarai Jack”.

The most compelling story was actually that of Master Shifu, the Kung Fu master who has lost his peace because the child he loved reflected back to him the worst of his own obsession.

It was a fun evening, with lots of in jokes and references for me to chuckle over, and lovely, over the top fight scenes - the final defeat was surprisingly unseen, but I think a fitting end.

Yours,

An amused Panda fan.

Dear Hancock,

I had a fun time with you tonight, but I do feel somewhat cheated.  Your trailers promised a very specific kind of story, which really appealed to me, and I was looking forward to.  I was a bit surprised to discover that the promised story took up only the first part of the film, and that most of the good bits of that I’d already seen in the trailers.  The rest of the story was a completely different kind of thing, it was OK, but it was not what I was expecting, and sat very uncomfortably when considered from the point of view of the relationships portrayed (a fact that you barely acknowledged).

In particular, I wonder, are you happy with the final state of affairs?  Is it a sacrifical kindness to the human race, or is it in fact the cowards way out?  Poets and storytellers have for years told us that love is worth giving up your power and self, and in the end dying for, but perhaps you disagree.

Yours,

Someone who wishes you’d made good on your promises.

P.S.  *SPOILERS FROM NOW ON* I’ve been trying to work out the ancient god with the hawk association.  Mars was an obvious one, but that doesn’t work so well, with the comparative weakness compared to the other character.  In fact, if anything, the other character fits Mars better, because of the lightning association and similarity of name.  I have been considering Prometheus, since he had a hawk eat his liver every day for a long time, and was merely a lesser titan rather than a god, and famous for helping the human race, but perhaps that experience would put him off eagles.  Zeus was strongly associated with Eagles, but again doesn’t have the characteristic concern for humanity and comparative weakness - perhaps I’d be better off thinking of native American, or celtic mythologies.

Jon Stewart suggested that the drunk superhero making a mess of things was a metaphor for the USA. That’s an interesting take, but wouldn’t that make the other character a metaphor for Russia? I’m struggling enough with the idea of spin doctor as good guy without trying to cram sexed up iraq dossiers into that mix.

Knowing that there was a twist part way through was enough to enable me to guess pretty much what it was.  There were a lot of lingering shots that did a good job of showing that a history existed, although some of the actions and reactions didn’t seem all that believable in retrospect.

The key rule about “becoming mortal” doesn’t make a whole heap of sense to me, except perhaps as a metaphor for love making you vulnerable (but that really doesn’t mesh well with the end) - at about that point in the film, a lot of information that seems quite arbitrary is introduced.  Perhaps it could have been worked in more smoothly.  “We were made that way” raises more questions that it answers, and makes me doubt the motives of the person saying it (but perhaps that’s because of my recent acquaintance with Wanted). Also, is the slight alusion to a “them” who always come for Hancock just some unclarity, or is there some sinister force acting through history for his destruction?

Dear Wanted,

I had to think for a while about what it was I didn’t like about you, but I think I worked it out.

Soliloquy.  There’s a reason that breaking the fourth wall with an inane rant to the viewer is frowned on.  That’s because it’s almost always a bad idea.  You might think you’re being edgy and modern, but lets face it, you’re no Fight Club.  That was a film that could carry off the soliloquy.  The opening of Swordfish played with the whole idea beautifully.  Instead, your tone was closer to tediously moralising American dramas where the voice simply emphasises the action.  Desperate Housewives, or Scrubs.  Redundant and juvenile. Childrens cartoons stopped having the character explain the moral of the story to the audience at the end of the film because it was patronising, not because it was some genius secret that got “lost”.

Oh, and tackling the whole question of “interpretation” and significance of holy texts is a nuanced issue, and if you’re going to make it your main storyline, you should be able to do better than “Oh, let me show you how you to interpret this, and then never let me catch you doing it again”.  Loom of fate, great idea, shame you never found a way to make it make sense in the story (although I do love the idea of a Holy Text that turns on its disciples).  In the end, the message is very confused, is the holy text right?   Should it be questioned?  The hero doesn’t know, or even really care, he just somehow thinks that killing lots of people and humiliating the only other people in his life who meant anything to him (flawed though they are) is somehow him “taking his life back”.

You’ll notice that I don’t mind your flashy stunts and ridiculous fight scenes.  These are the kinds of things I go to see action films for.  I’m a sucker for the regular Jo with the office job who has hidden potential.  I like shooting bullets out of the air (although you did perhaps do that one too many times). I think most office workers would love to discover they had hidden powers and destiny, and the reason they can’t quite seem to take their life seriously is because they, like Neo were always destined for a life of badassery.

But to make a good action foreground, there has to be a respect for the normal everyday life in the background.  Yes, the hero doesn’t fit there, he has transcended it, but the people in it should be more than mere charicatures.  Any true hero must be able to conquer his inner demons as well as his myriad outer foes.  No real resolution is achieved, and at the end the hero is just as much of a loser as he always was at relationships.

Which also makes me wonder about how easy it apparently is to hire a small gang of people for a job that obviously requires their own death. I’d get to the bit where the new boss was visualising where my body would fall so that he can draw a big X on the ground in the right place and I’d be saying “actually, I’m not so sure about this job”.

On top of that, bizarre train crashes and shootings of strangers says that normal (poor) peoples lives don’t matter, in fact, even their bodies just mysteriously disappear. Where’s the sense of tragedy that even the worst of the action films normally tries to conjure up. In the end the hero has massacred hundreds of innocent bystanders for no reason, lost every single one of his friends and family (most of whom he’s killed himself) and yet thinks he can lecture me about doing something with my life.

His moral degeneracy is highlighted by the fact that in order to allow the audience to accept what he’s doing, they get the justification for it before they know he does it, while he does it without even knowing the justification.

I can’t remember a more depressing moment in a film than when the hero realises he’s rich.  Is that really all it takes for all of societies veneer to come off?  Was there nothing good at all behind his thoughtful facade?  It wasn’t even discovering his talents or his identity or his family that made him happy and gave him the power to stand up to those around him - it was discovering he was rich.  That’s a pretty miserable view of human life.

Your twists and turns were welcome, although not particularly surprising.  It was fairly clear early on the rough track that you were heading down (if you want to surprise me, you’re going to have to work harder than casting Samuel L in a role like that).  And I want to say, if you’re ever thinking of another scene, and it contains the words “I am your father”, then you need to stop and rethink what you’re getting yourself into.  Search your feelings, you know it to be true.

There were moments of beauty, and crackling action, but in the end, you had no soul, the message you claimed was a lie, the violence was empty, the characters were flat, and their choices bizzare.

I can enjoy mindless just as much as anyone, but there are limits.

Yours,

Someone who believes you could be so much more.