“…when distant galaxies are on my doorstep.”
occasionally productive
While I’m not exactly on the “best movie ever on letterboxd” train with this one, man is it just so creative and fun. I do prefer Into the Spider-Verse…but that one doesn’t have Spider-Punk now does it? The multiverse thing usually feels like a lazy plot device for lacking storytellers, but this story handles it well. Except if (SPOILERS) they wind up giving everyone (not just Miles Morales) an evil doppelgänger in the next one. There’s some intriguing themes of breaking…
Let’s begin with the ending, one that genuinely never fails to bring tears to my eyes. Death isn’t subverted as much as it is redefined—it is an end, indeed, not just of life, but of suffering. The end of a life marred and engulfed by abuse, the constant need to escape via drugs and sex. The latter of which is virtually never for pleasure here, it’s either transactional or non-consensual. The Pink Room/Canada sequence is mesmerizing and hypnotic, a real…
sometimes you’ve gotta watch a movie you know will be trash, made by a filmmaker who may be the new gold standard for nepotism granting the truly untalented a bevy of undeserved opportunities. and starring people I couldn’t care less about, as the false glamour of Hollywood does nothing for moi. it’s somehow even worse than his last film (of which I’ve previously stated my thoughts), as this time Levinson’s new fun plaything he can latch onto isn’t the 2010s…
eh. I’d prefer movies about socialists and communists to not be produced and performed by capitalists. don’t even get me started on having jay z be on the soundtrack.
biopics never work for me. they just come off as lazy, half-hearted recreations of the truth, and almost never give you a complete picture anyways. idk man, I’d prefer to just read a book about what actually happened, and what the Panthers/Fred Hampton were really about. this film is just way…