Movie watcher, comic writer, podcast maker
Beloved and self-aware indie film director Jim Jarmusch opens his Actors Rolodex and assembles the Jarmusch Avengers for The Dead Don’t Die; a zombie movie that isn’t a zombie movie so much as it is a movie about beloved and self-aware indie film director Jim Jarmusch making a zombie movie. It knows it’s a bad movie, tells you at length that it knows it’s a bad movie, but doesn’t do anything interesting with the fact that it’s a bad movie. I’ve never sat in a theater so palpably tired of being winked at before.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Akira is a story about annihilation, about a species in its adolescence weilding power it hasn’t reckoned with, about thermodynamics and the law of anitya; a story that literally only one country on Earth could tell. In a post-Hiroshima/Nagasaki world, buildings are no longer unassailably permanent fixtures. Tanks are not invincible. As an invisible nuclear radiation settles in the flesh, the human body itself can no longer retain pattern integrity. In the long, stark shadow of an atomic blast—an image that not-coincidentally…
Inoffensive but slight. Continues the myopic tradition of slavishly worshipping only the 1960s-70s breakouts, as if nothing original has happened to music in the ensuing 50 years. Not unrelated: every single thing played in this documentary, which is ostensibly about revolutionary drumming, is in 4/4.