Unsure if this is sacrilege or not but Predator 2 is equally fantastic as its predecessor. Unjustly financially and critically damned upon its release during 1990, Stephen Hopkins' sequel takes what John McTiernan did so well and gave it a new lick of gloss.
Moving the mayhem into the concrete jungle works a treat and the gang-war infected 1997 Los Angeles gave the franchise an alternative visual style. It's sweaty, noisy, violent, and corrupt (reminiscent of Carpenter's Assault on Precinct…
Three hours of Brad Pitt's bum, Orlando Bloom's eyebrows, Eric Bana's muscles, Diane Kruger's tits, Saffron Burrows' "acting"...
...and Sean Bean NOT dying! Huzzah!
Troy works out well for him. Unfortunately, not for the audience. Passionless, artless, and a total bore.
Did I mention Brad Pitt gets his bum out in this?
So much so that Arnie's daft performance is the only salvageable aspect that can be scraped from this plate of visual diarrhea.
There's so many wrong things at play here:
1. Alicia Silverstone handles the english language like she just suffered a severe stroke.
2. Uma Thurman is about as sexy as Jimmy Saville in a children's hospital ward.
3. Chris O'Donnell has the charisma of a toilet seat.
4. George Clooney's leather nipples.
5. Bat bombs. Bat…
"You're just a little boy, aren't you?"
Birth is an elegant piece of filmmaking, delicately directed by Jonathan Glazer (Sexy Beast). It touches upon a plethora of themes that include love, loyalty, death, family, and grief but saturated in an atmosphere of supernatural oddness, yet, it's hard to place this under a certain genre. It's a stark piece of individual filmmaking that rarely comes around these days even though it echoes the likes of Kubrick.
Still, this will split an…