bransonreese’s review published on Letterboxd :
One of the quotes I think about the most is this one from Brian Eno:
"Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit - all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided. It’s the sound of failure: so much modern art is the sound of things going out of control, of a medium pushing to its limits and breaking apart. The distorted guitar sound is the sound of something too loud for the medium supposed to carry it. The blues singer with the cracked voice is the sound of an emotional cry too powerful for the throat that releases it. The excitement of grainy film, of bleached-out black and white, is the excitement of witnessing events too momentous for the medium assigned to record them.”
This is how I feel about Jerry Bruckheimer. Now that he's dead (I know he's alive and well but on a deeper, more profound level he's dead) I can't hate him anymore. And, man, I hated him! This movie is completely charming but I can't blame critics for not being charmed by it in 1997. It sucked in 1997. But it's 2018 now and we love Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay and we're sort of fond of how goofy Nickleback was even though we were all in facebook groups called, like, "I Want To See Chad Kroeger Executed By Firing Squad" in 2006. We've moved on from those idiots and now we hate...I wanna say, Zack Snyder? Or maybe we've moved far enough beyond Snyder that we love him already. I don't know, I don't pay attention to a lot of this shit.