Women be Equal… in Objectifying Men.

WONDER WOMAN 1984, the sequel to 2017’s lauded, woman-empowering WONDER WOMAN, forgets how to ‘human,’ let alone empower women.

The movie opens on Barbara (Kristen Wiig), a shapely office blonde, who drops to all fours to pick up papers she just fumbled, and three guys walk past her without a second glance – because she wears glasses. The movie is set in 1984 (for the purpose of the outdated communication methods in the climax) – but it’s 2020 out here, and director/co-writer Patty Jenkins (who also directed the previous film, to the fist-up of feminists everywhere) now subjects us to the neanderthal trope of a woman being unattractive by being clumsy and wearing spectacles.

Hey, I’m not sexist – Patty Jenkins is.

The plot itself is a case study on non-human nature, involving an artifact called the Dream Stone that grants wishes. It arrives in a shipment to the Smithsonian, where Diana Prince/Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) is plying her day job. (During that dropped papers scene, Diana helps Barbara on all fours. No man notices. Not even an Askew Glance (that neckular angle that men have evolved in the arms race to view cameltoe and whale-tail and tight-skirted thigh without being discovered). Is this what “woman-empowerment” has devolved to? Pretending these women are “equal” to men, and therefore undesirable? Whether you subscribe to woman empowerment or are a total misogynist, that doesn’t negate basic human behavior.)

A failed businessman, Max Lord (Pedro Pascal), assumes the “villain” role as he absconds with the Dream Stone, turning himself into a granter of wishes, and grants everyone on Earth their wish. Chaos ensues worldwide. And Wonder Woman beseeches the world to recant their wishes, on the assumption that all were “selfish” (n.b. chicks, cash, and cock size). But did the writers (Geoff Johns, Dave Callaham, and Jenkins) consider wishes like “walking after being crippled,” “curing my baby of cancer,” “surviving a school shooter” or even the generic “world peace”? I’m presuming they did, because they build a negative into the wish – that there is a heavy price to pay for each wish granted. It is presumed everyone in the world is experiencing the maelstrom of disorder from their wishes granted. But I’m sure the cancer patients and cripples and parents of dead kids are mighty fine with a little caca after their lives have been resurrected from the toilet.

The movie digs itself into a pitch black hole. And then it digs deeper: everyone DOES recant. Non-human nature is built into the fabric of WONDER WOMAN 1984, which is defeated by shameful writing and the utter implausibility of this plot whose ramifications are too expansive to deal with in a 90-minute movie.

Diana herself has a morbid wish fulfilled, at the expense of losing her powers gradually – to be with Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) again. And we’re meant to ignore that she must be pathologically damaged for pining over a guy she slept with once over 65 years ago. Her wish is granted, with the soul/spirit/essence of Steve Trevor taking over a random stranger’s body. That is: we see the stranger as Chris Pine, but if he looks in a mirror, he’ll see what his original body looks like – another guy. And not an iota of thought is given to this other guy’s existence: Does he not have friends or family that would realize he is missing? What about his bills, his workplace, phone calls, appointments? Does Jenkins think this is how women are empowered? By simply using a rando’s body while his brain and life are put on hold? Truly the most sinister, horrifying, morbid element in this kiddie movie, Kristoffer Polaha plays this unsuspecting male rape victim, and is credited only as “Handsome Man.” In other words, given credit for his looks only. 

Hey, I’m not sexist – the writers are.

Barbara (Wiig) idolizes Diana, desiring to be as womanly and alluring as her. The Dream Stone grants her wish to be “an apex predator” – and turns her into a cheetah (which is technically not an apex predator, and technically not Cheetah’s DC Comics origin either). She doesn’t seem to mind, as she can now walk in high heels (because – woman empowerment), and becomes Max Lord’s bottom bitch for no reason.

Kristen does an excellent job in this silly role. She’s one of my favorite SNL alumni, and kudos to her agent for landing her a tentpole movie. Only problem is: this high-profile feature is excrement, and doesn’t give her any real acting (or comedy) to do.

Well, there’s THIS position… There is no way you can NOT sexualize someone as lubricious as Gadot in that costume. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a eunuch.

If it’s not the stupid plot, it’s the lame effects: Wonder Woman runs in the street at super-speed – and it looks like she’s on a moving sidewalk being pulled along, because (as Gal describes it) she was being pulled along “as fast as Usain Bolt”… All these years later and we’re still faking Jeff-East-Running-Alongside-Train? Wonder Woman and Steve steal a jet, and she makes it invisible through, uh… magic who cares fuck you.

Speaking of magic, if all the other Dream Stone wishes are being magicked out of thin air, why can’t Steve Trevor be magicked in the same way? Why did they overrun Handsome Man’s unsuspecting body to assuage Diana’s obsessive ramrod fixation? And no, it’s not unhealthy obsession that she lusts after a guy she dicked down 65 years ago; it’s “true love” because she’s a woman, see.

Diana dons angelic armor for the final battle with Cheetah; armor that apparently belonged to a great Amazonian warrior, Asteria, who went MIA. But it’s simply for trailers and posters, as Diana shucks it off after Cheetah tears it to shreds… supposedly mythical armor is pretty useless if it can’t even survive an attack by the Target Lady. Besides, it was spending too much time covering Wonder’s regular bondage costume that teases with sexy combat positions just a peek-a-boo away from BAGINA.

Hey, I’m not sexist – the fight choreographer is.

Funny how they make everyone talk in Gal Gadot’s Austro-Czecho-Germano-Israeli accent. It could be seen as the Amazons being exotic and who knows what they sound like – but it’s more a case of, “What?! She can’t do an American accent? Jesus, we have to reverse-engineer everyone else around her to sound like that…” (Wouldn’t you have killed to have been in that producer meeting?)

Final scene cameos the original Wonder Woman – Lynda Carter as Asteria (the armor owner), still radiant, drop-dead stunning and salaciously irresistible–

Hey, I’m not sexist – Wonder Woman is.

END

The tricep-ian directorial style of Zack Snyder.

Justice for the Justice League.

A harrowing journey from Zack Snyder’s brain to our eyes, but at long last the true vision of JUSTICE LEAGUE has been realized. And it is everything a superhero movie should be: gods and devils, bombast and quietude, punching and mind-games, good and evil, sacrifice and hope, with the fate of the Earth hanging… on a glowy thing.

the journey…

Writer-Director Snyder stepped away from post-production of JUSTICE LEAGUE in March 2017 after the suicide of his daughter, Autumn. He told Cinemablend, he was in the midst of arguing creative differences with the studio anyway, and had no energy left for that fight. “I was just kinda done with it… my family needs me more than this… and I just need to honor them and do the best I can to heal that world.” Out of respect, let’s not forget Deborah Snyder, Zack’s wife and Autumn’s mother, who also left the film. She was the producer – a heavy hand in any movie’s realization. With both of them absent, and a release date approaching, Warner Brothers brought in writer-director Joss Whedon, veteran of Marvel’s AVENGERS, not so much to deliver Snyder’s film on time, as to deliver the film that THEY wanted on time, tasking Whedon with massive re-shoots (which resulted in Henry Cavill’s philtrum malfunction – honestly, if the mustache imbroglio wasn’t leaked, no one would have EVER known). Cavill had to contractually retain a pornstache for MISSION IMPOSSIBLE: FALLOUT during the LEAGUE reshoots. So the LEAGUE digital artists painted over it. And the internet collapses over a CGI non-mustache that no one can see. Warners ran roughshod over Snyder’s vision with poor Joss Whedon caught in the middle. So let’s not pile on Joss too much – he was just doing his job… (Same excuse the Nazis made at Nuremburg – just sayin’…) And Snyder still retains the directing credit onscreen for that movie, with Whedon only credited as a writer, with Chris Terrio. Gotta admit, I enjoyed Whedon’s theatrical version – now being called JOSS-TICE LEAGUE – because we saw our childhood heroes in full flight. It wasn’t all bad. It was studio approved. Which means it wasn’t great either.

Zack stepping away from his superhero film – was a superhero move. And then, after his art was rendered as less than stellar, to return to it after such a personal tragedy to re-consecrate his vision and re-render it as mythic – proves he IS a superhero. The final title card: For Autumn.

This ain’t THE RICHARD DONNER CUT with 1981’s SUPERMAN II, another Superman movie where fan outcry prompted studio heads to cobble together Donner’s original vision 25 years after director Richard Lester made a hash of it – and it ended up just as mediocre as Lester’s – because it sometimes used test footage and cutting room fodder, but mostly because Donner was not involved. No, THE SNYDER CUT is Snyder at the helm, 80% of it previously unseen, all ORIGINAL footage – not re-shoots (so Superman has a stiff upper lip), dynamically fleshing out each character that limped flatly into the theatrical version. It’s rated R, so can be more blunt about arbitrary killing of innocents – something which I’ve always said DC movies have done better than Marvel, to highlight the LIMITS and SELF-REPROACH of super beings; there is swearing, imperiling children, cruelty to animals, nudity all up and down Wonder Woman’s thighs, the only thing missing is blackface – no wait – [Darkseid]. At 4 hours long, Snyder’s vision is a monument to what superhero movies CAN be if given the time to breathe, and also a shot across the bow to the moribund theater system that tyrannizes filmmakers into 2 hour releases; you know, so they can get a maximum amount of screenings in; with longer films, they lose income because less screenings equals less butts on seats per viewing day. So with all the new platforms for viewing movies, filmmakers – especially auteurs – need not bow to the stranglehold on their art. This epic movie proves: If you film it, they will come. But – a caveat that a movie has to be GOOD to sustain interest over multiple hours, so don’t all rush out and film 4 hour rob schnieder movies. Jesus…

In its first minutes, ZACK SNYDER’S JUSTICE LEAGUE impresses, as we see Superman dying at the hands of the monster Doomsday, yelling in agony (the climax of 2016’s BATMAN V SUPERMAN); and it is elegantly portrayed how his death cries reverberate around the world – waking three alien artifacts called motherboxes, and alerting the races who guard them – Atlanteans, Amazons and Americans.

So once again, JUSTICE LEAGUE opens with Superman, but not like the 2017 version in cutesy cellphone video for kiddies rather, depicting an elemental force whose power is so great it triggers the boxes which, we would learn, are “change machines” that sensed cataclysm in the very fabric of matter when such an extraordinary power was extinguished. Are you starting to perceive the high ground Zack Snyder is hailing us from?

– – – – – SPOILERS – – – – –

the story…

A lumpy, down-syndrome demon named Steppenwolf (voiced by Ciaran Hinds) wormholes to Earth, to collect the motherboxes that were lost here by his sugardaddy, a lumpier demon named Darkseid, the Thanos of DC (voiced by Ray Porter); originally slated to appear in JUSTICE LEAGUE 2017, Darkseid is reinstated here as the conqueror of worlds. (Also, just to be precise, Darkseid was created by Jack Kirby in 1970; before Jim Starlin created Thanos in 1973.) Not only has the silver-spiked Steppenwolf been upgraded from his X-box Liam Neeson version, he now has pathos and motivation; for betraying his sugardaddy in some way, retrieving the boxes is his penance to return home, but you gotta admit, the poor boy looks like he’s on the spectrum.

After Steppen captures the boxes from the Amazons and the Atlanteans – in battle scenes much better than 2017’s version, Batman (grizzled Ben Affleck) recruits a team of metahumans to repel him (it’s not kewl enough to just call them superheroes): The Aquaman (warrior Jason Momoa), and Barry Allen not-yet-called The Flash (hipster Ezra Miller), while Wonder Woman (salubrious Gal Gadot) recruits a man-of-steel-parts known as Cyborg (stoic Ray Fisher). But even with battle-posing as cheesy as a German cheese festival, their combined punching of Steppenwolf proves inadequate and they need the o-boy punching of Superman as well (Henry Cavill). But he’s DEAD. With Cyborg holding the last motherbox, the gang hits upon a great marketing ploy – bring back Superman. They realize that this instrument Darkseid uses for death can also be used for life – because it’s magic who cares fuck you.

After the resurrection of Superman, Steppen gets the last motherbox, and now it’s up to the gang to stop Steppen from joining the three boxes into one box called The Unity, which would destroy the planet. Hmm, three into one – how Christian of them! And just like Christianity – destroying the planet. Congruent with this evil quest for unity is Batman’s quest for unity – to unite the League.

Motherboxes are “made from a science so advanced it looks like sorcery.” Ah, Arthur C Clarke’s immortal dictum: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” – Arthur C. Clarke.

Which makes all these Braveheart scenes pointless, no? They’re charging at SPACESHIPS with horses and spears. These ships crossed interdimensional space – and don’t have rocket launchers and laser beams?

The whole film LOOKS gorgeous – the color palette is muted, and they’ve overhauled its color grading and tonal lighting, rather than 2017’s splashy rainbow – in other words, it’s lit like a drama rather than a comedy – but there’s no sense here –

So these magic dudes could make motherboxes to destroy planets – and are taken down by arrows? You couldn’t scare up the ectoplasm to throw up a forcefield around yourSELVES, dudes? The only things that SHOULD be able to get you guys are the Green Lanterns or the Gods fighting alongside the humans, with their OWN magic who cares fuck you.

But everyone is missing the big picture: Steppen and Darko are meant to be “New Gods” implying they are ABOVE mere mortals, meaning their methods should be “indistinguishable from magic.” As an analogy, the modern military is set up for punching, that is, physical warfare, when ACTUAL warfare is now cyber. We’re not in the Agrarian Age any more; we don’t have to meet in a field wearing kilts to extend our domain; wars are fought on battlefields inconceivable to William Wallace. Thus, actual gods would conquer on a level incomprehensible to mankind. But no! – punching.

Zack and DC, these are all the inconsistencies and stupidities that critics point to and call us childish. This is why Martin Scorcese says Marvel movies – by association, all superhero movies – are not cinema. We’re gonna suspend our disbelief that beings can fly and shoot beams and run faster than light, and even possess magic who cares fuck you – but let’s have some consistency WITHIN this make-believe world.

the aquaman…

“He comes on the King Tide.” (I dunno – I just love that line!) Bruce Wayne meets Arthur Curry, The Aquaman, in an isolated arctic village. Cast your mind back to 2017, Movie Maniacs – this was the first time we laid eyes on Jason Momoa’s new testosterone take on the future king of Atlantis. Lion-maned, body-painted, leather-panted, Momoa ain’t your daddy’s orange-and-green sea-queen, as he polishes a bottle of whiskey before diving shirtless into the tempest. A tragic king without a kingdom, when it comes to rebooting, Aquaman – with his Haight-Ashbury ethos and roaring masculinity – is surely the coolest reboot in superhero history. And wettest. YOU know what I’m talking about!

Johnny Depp’s domestic abuser, Amber Heard, is Mera, queen of double-standards. When Steppen fishes out the Atlantean’s motherbox, why does she tell Arthur it’s HIS duty to retrieve it? His half-brother Orm is the reigning king. Anyway, why don’t all the sea people back up their most powerful of all sea men?

the lover…

Amy Adams as Lois Lane has little to do amongst this sprawling epic – and so much gorgeous to do it in. Her poignant scenes as Superman’s love left behind, take us into her emptiness as she visits his monument, as she wakes in a lonely bed, as she meets Clark’s mother, Martha (Diane Lane aka “Why-Did-You-Say-That-Name?!” –  That meeting scene has its own problems – sacrificing real emotion for fangasm – no room to discuss here – I just wanna mention: when Martha Kent laments, “Everywhere I look I see that S” a tiny knowing smile flits across Lois’s face – we’re thinking the same thing, “It’s not an S.” It was her first real connection with the Man of Steel and now it connects us to Lois. These are the small things that make this film brilliant.)

So when Lois is convinced to move on, and she visits Heroes Park “one last time” (giving coffee to Jimmy Olsen from 1978), when she turns back to see a small figure hovering high in the sky, we FEEL her trepidation: she is bereft, haggard with love lost, weeped out – DARE she hope that THAT is the love she has just decided to leave behind? Would it not crush the soul of any human if this was a hoax?

In the Snyder Cut, Lois is not brought in as “Batman’s secret weapon” – she is there! – about to turn her back. Until she remembered, It’s not an S.

the wonder woman…

Enter Wonder Woman and her vaguely Mediterranean theme song – every time she is onscreen. Every. Single. Time.  It’s like they’re trying to wipe some other song from our memory (“…Imagine all the people…”). Her introduction is a fantastic scene, as a superhero vignette and a woman-empowering inspiration. (And notice how Snyder has crafted the shots so that we don’t get so many views of her black nun’s panties?) She stops terrorists from blowing up a bank – then she blows it up herself. Oh, but she needed to dramatically kill a bad guy, so that’s okay. A little girl asks, “Can I be like you someday?” And Wonder Woman lies to her, “You can be anything you want to be.” Are we still selling this shit? Or was the girl talking about being a murderer?

Her people, the Amazons – we feel their power. They are now not just toyt abs for us to drool over; we see the relationship of those toyt abs to their extraordinary strength and singleminded purpose. When Steppenwolf attacks the motherbox fortress, not only do they nearly bring him down, they sacrifice their lives for their queen and their cause.

The two Amazons holding up the falling rock slab so their queen might escape, and then being trapped inside as the edifice crashes to the sea – THAT is super.

But again, why don’t they help their princess in the “world of men”? Nah, just shoot an arrow at her and she’ll know what to do. I mean, you and the humans and Atlanteans all joined forces millennia ago – this new threat to your very existence isn’t a big enough reason to step outside your nunnery?

Without seeming like wokeness, the demi-god Wonder Woman is more integral to the fight against Steppen, and I do like the way he gets in her head with lies, about abandoning her homeland and placing their deaths on her head. In the end, she takes his, in Snyder’s original dynamic climax, as he tells us: “I use gods to kill gods.”

the cyborg…

Cyborg/Victor Stone was created in 1980, while the original Justice League of America premiered in 1960, with Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, Aquaman and Flash. No one from the Silver Age grew up with Cyborg – he was retconned as a founding member in 2011, so I don’t really like the guy. [Victor: “Fuck the world!”] — I like the guy!

Victor has a … complicated relationship with his father, physicist Silas Stone (the excellent Joe Morton) – he was never a caring parent, busy with work, yet he saved Victor’s life with that work – a motherbox – but to do so, he had to make Victor a cyborg. Later, we see them gaining trust for each other when Victor creates a diversion and Silas supports him against his own scientists.

Silas would make the ultimate sacrifice for his son. And the heart-rending scene of Victor lamenting, “I didn’t save him – I couldn’t!”– which I love, showing the downside of super powers – they have limits.

Not only an orphan, but feeling not even human, the League would help Victor realize he was not broken – and not alone.

Victor is not just a simple Iron Man ripoff; in Snyder Cut we can now fully understand his role: as a futuretech hacker in this digital age, striding amongst the cyber world like a Colossus. Remember what I said about the new wave of warfare being cyber and beyond? So Zack got it right when he rebooted Victor as a CYBER-entity – the machine-man who could infiltrate the motherboxes… well, half-right, because how does Victor’s digital prowess access the magic of the motherboxes?

Uuuh, okay everyone – keep punching!

the batman…

As far as I’m concerned we got gyped out of a proper MAN OF STEEL trilogy AND a proper BATFLECK trilogy, from the two best proponents of their superheroes ever. I said it. I mean it.

And it’s sad that in Snyder Cut, Batman is actually diminished by what Snyder leaves OUT: his arc from BATMAN V SUPERMAN, of becoming more ferocious to match the intensity of the criminals he was up against, has been negated with this movie because he’s facing off against supernatural things. I hate to complain because we get to see this best combat Batman in action, but it’s not as compelling when it’s all CGI. I would have been more invested had he been fighting thugs – that’s his forte. That’s what his batsuit was built for – to scare humans – when the things he’s fighting are beyond human, they’re probably just laughing at his Halloween costume, like Aquaman does.

The 2017 film opened with Batman capturing a parademon. It was a good scene – lost here, not necessary. And I’m very sorry that Snyder removed the scene where Flash confesses to Batman his fear of battle, and Batman’s empathetic reply, “Save one!”  – but I understand. It made Batman look big and Flash look small; and Batman doesn’t need to be bigger, but the unknown filmic property Flash needs every foot of his presence right now. (Every foot – see what I did there?)

Also removed, Bruce saying, “Even if there’s a fraction of a chance…” to revive Superman, which was a nice mirror image of his rationale to kill Superman, “Even if there’s a fraction of a chance” that he would burn down the planet… And here, Bruce does not voice that Superman is, “more human than I am” which again, would have been a good arc from him regarding Superman as alien. His guilt is, after all, fueling his drive to unite the League. So yes, there WERE a few good characterizations in Whedon’s script.

fun fact…

Ben Affleck: the superhero we didn’t know we kept hiring.

An observation on roles for aging men and women: In 2006, Ben Affleck played Diane Lane’s illicit lover in HOLLYWOODLAND, where he actually portrayed the George Reeves Superman –making him the only actor on Earth to have played both Superman and Batman (and Daredevil!). Now, I love Diane Lane, but 14 years on, Affleck is still a hulking symbol of sex – and Lane is playing someone’s mother. Don’t hate ME – I’m just the observer.

the butler…

When Bruce introduces the League to Alfred, “Everyone, this is Alfred. I work for him,” that was touching. Jeremy Irons is not only the funniest, snarkiest Alfred, Bruce himself just testified to him being the brains of the operation, not just the manservant who darns his cape and butters his croissants. Obviously a veteran, Alfred stands equal to Bruce in creating tech and bringing down crime. Makes that line in BATMAN V SUPERMAN more poignant, (“We’re criminals, Alfred. We’ve always been criminals.”) WE… I mean, Alfred never said, “Who’s WE, sucka?!” I always wanted more of this Alfred, and our wishes are granted.

Then there is the moving scene of Alfred meeting Superman, removed in the 2017 version. From its music, to the staging and dialogue, everything about this controlled, integral scene screams, “Removed by asshole Warner Bros. execs who know nothing about telling an inspiring story.” From the deference they show each other, to the underlying joy on Alfred’s face, to that word, hidden in Alfred’s final line: “Now let’s HOPE you’re not too late.” It’s not an S.

the superman…

Is there such a thing as the perfect superman? Look at that face! Look at that jawline! Look at that nose! Look at that manner! Look at his flight! Look at those lats! The way he wears those bellbottom sweatpants– Look at– What was the question again?

The plot point with the largest potential for being idiotic – the resurrection of Superman – is handled much better in the Snyder Cut. It’s not a quick “Let’s do this, Scooby!” – it’s a conflict until the very last second, as the computer incessantly warns “This process is irreversible” fighting Cyborg’s override all the way.

And what was originally the absolute best scene – Superman battling the League and Flash trying to outflank him – is now just one of many great vignettes that make up this colossal movie. But why is Aquaman surprised? Superman is confronted by people he’s never met (except Wonder Woman briefly), all ATTACKING him. And they’re saying something’s wrong with HIM? What would Jesus do? Well Superman IS Jesus, so…

Shirtless Clark is calmed by Lois, and they visit his farm, to get his mind back. Then Lois does a terrible thing – she gives him a shirt.

In his short screentime, even Superman has a powerful arc. He comes back alone, afraid, lashes out. Then he connects with his love, his mother, his past, and finally, comes into full power when he joins his “family” of metahumans, the League.

Clark visits his Kryptonian ship to get – his BLACK SUIT [dun dun dah] But hold on, fanboys, this is not the Regeneration Suit from Reign of the Supermen – this is just a “black suit” – that Snyder uses here to link to Kal-El’s homeland, where everyone, if you remember, wore black. And here’s the kicker for this scene: as Clark walks the hallowed corridors, we hear two voices in his head inspiring him to Be Best – his blood father Jor-El and his adopted father Jonathan Kent, in alternating lines, preaching their truths. Russell Crowe, great in the role of Jor-El, and Kevin Costner even greater in the role of Jonathan Kent. Man, every time Kevin Costner speaks, I cry. Every time I think of the perfection Henry Cavill brings to the role of Superman, I cry. Every time I hear this soundtrack, I cry. I cry more than a grown man should.

This movie’s ORIGINAL slogan was, “You can’t save the world alone.” And everyone, including me, made the joke, “Well, you can if you’re Superman.” But in Snyder Cut, they truly are a team.

the flash…

In 2017, Barry was introduced by Bruce throwing a bat-shuriken at him. A spectacular scene, just for the sound design alone – but we go even deeper in the Snyder Cut, as we meet Barry saving the life of a young girl – she’s meant to be Iris West – Barry’s love interest since the Silver Age. As her car slams a truck and she is thrown forward, Barry smashes through a window to save her. This glass smashing is actually part of Barry’s arc – he has not yet learned to vibrate his molecules through matter. Snyder has chosen his source music perfectly, in this scene, “Song To The Siren” by Rose Betts; I noticed that the song isn’t quantized – it breathes with its own timing; Barry is so fast he can take the time to marvel at the girl’s face and hair, as the song takes its time as well – brilliant! – as he eases her gently to the ground, and her car triple-flips like a Michael Bay movie.

I love the breathtaking representation of Barry’s speed, with the arc-lightning searing the air around him – definitely some physics tied up in that, like the friction with the air molecules creating static electricity – and I love the way his body strides, tilted forward, arms swinging, really unique and cool. His quirky personality, though not canon, is very entertaining – Snyder has made HIM 80% of the comic relief, and removed a lot of the clumsy humor from other characters in the 2017 version.

Also very refreshing – we see these heroes performing small heroic deeds: Aquaman rescues one man from a sinking trawler, Cyborg fills a poverty-stricken mother’s bank account, Wonder Woman nullifies a hostage situation, and Flash saves one girl from a crash; whereas Whedon showed muggers kicking over fruit stands to represent crime running rampant in the streets, when that’s the bottom-rung SYMPTOM of the true crimes being perpetrated in high office – Snyder opts to show unfortunate people just being beaten by the exigencies of life.

Y’know, I coulda regarded JUSTICE LEAGUE as a kiddie film all the way up to… Flash. Turning back time to save the world. They got me. The culmination of Flash’s arc is the culmination of everything – As the motherboxes achieved unity – so did the League: it was Flash who yelled in their first battle, “Guys, this is NOT together!” – at the end, they are together. The first battle, Flash tripped, now, sure-footed. He was an outcast from society, now, society’s only hope.

With the resurrection scene, we saw a foreshadowing of Flash’s powers to turn back time as the motherbox rose from the liquid to meet his electric touch – didja notice that?; now…

The ticking clock runs out. The Justice League fails. The boxes annihilate creation. In that nanosecond, Barry sees the shockwave heading towards him – he once broke glass to go through it, now, he vibrates his particles so that the shockwave passes through HIM! That eerie soundtrack as Earth’s disintegration expands into the distance behind him – Tom Holkenborg’s orchestral score is a sweeping exhilaration that makes you wish you had done more with your wretched life.

And Barry runs. Faster than he’s ever run. Toward the source of the explosion, faster than light, faster than time, pulling the particles backwards, re-integrating reality.

During this arc lightning, his arc is achieved – all his life he’s been trying to make something of himself – to please his dad (the great Billy Crudup); he’s even trying to earn a law degree to litigate his father’s wrongful imprisonment. Now at world’s end, his thoughts turn to his father, telling him he fought alongside the best of the best. We were ALL this guy! Seeking the approbation of our parents, and then one day, finding that we were running toward our destiny!

In 2017, Flash pushed a truck out of the way – here, he saves Earth… KNEEL BEFORE FLASH!

epilogue…

The super man, the black suit, the punchaboo…

JUSTICE LEAGUE is told in 6 chapters and 1 epilogue with seven LORD OF THE RINGS endings, and Amber Heard speaking British. I personally think Zack blew it here. There’s too much setup for future movies and nothing of substance. I loved the 2017 ending: “All you have to do – is look up in the sky…” with Superman ripping from the ground into a sonic boom – but then, I’m partial to Superman, and I realize he did NOT play a big part in this movie, so I understand the decision.

Here… it’s touching narration by Silas Stone. Fitting, considering Cyborg’s major role.

We also see Jared Leto’s Joker (from SUICIDE SQUAD) in a dream sequence. Taking a cue from Heath Ledger, his makeup is now smeared. And fanboys, he only says, “We live in a society…” in the trailer – a phrase from a Joker meme. Then 2 cents worth of Martian Manhunter. All of this tease and setup is just conjecture at this point, because we’ve lost the two best top-tier superheroes we will ever have – Ben Affleck and Henry Cavill. Unless some hashtags can save the day.

9 STARS…

… because no matter what Martin Scorcese or Bill Maher say, a great superhero film should fulfill every aspect of what makes any NON-superhero film great – excellent production, sincere intent, compelling story, identifiable characters, nuanced performances, adult themes of existential crises, and arcs of redemption or damnation. Check. Check. Check. / Check. Check. Check. Check. And if there is sacrifice– bonus. If the soundtrack makes me weep- bonus!

It’s grand enough filmmaking to take us along for the ride once we accept its contradictory world. [aside]: Exhibit A, Your Honor: STAR WARS A NEW HOPE is in the same bucket.) Yes, there will always be fanboys complaining about SOMETHING, however, as far as DC aficionados are concerned, ZACK SNYDER’S JUSTICE LEAGUE is canon now. Warner Bros. disagrees, maintaining that, even though Snyder just proved how big his balls are, they’re still gonna throw him off all future DC projects.

Onto the next hashtag: #RestoreTheSnyderVerse.

Movie Maniacs, use the Speed Force and buy it, rent it, steal it – what I’m saying is: “If you seek his monument, look around you” – it’s the writing on the dais at Heroes Park, it is originally from the tomb of architect Christopher Wren at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Look around you, Movie Maniacs – JUSTICE LEAGUE is Zack Snyder’s monument.

KNEEL BEFORE ZACK!

END

The League of Extraordinary Superpeeps.

Nobody should come to the movies unless he believes in heroes.
— John Wayne.

An interstellar villain tries to destroy Earth, but is vanquished with punching and computer jargon, by a fresh clique of supers called the JUSTICE LEAGUE.

Batman (grizzled Ben Affleck) recruits The Aquaman (warrior Jason Momoa), and Barry Allen not-yet-called The Flash (hipster Ezra Miller), to combat an otherworldly threat; while his potential love interest, Wonder Woman (salubrious Gal Gadot), recruits a man-of-steel-parts known as Cyborg (stoic Ray Fisher). Together they beat on the supervillain called Steppenwolf (voiced by Ciaran Hinds). And then Superman (Henry Cavill) shows up, so everyone can go home.

For all the deflective advertising, director/co-writer Zack Snyder and writers Chris Terrio and Joss Whedon might have called this movie TRAILERS WITHOUT SUPERMAN; or maybe HOW MUCH YOU BENCH, BRAH? Instead, they went with the name that DC comics dubbed their second ever supergroup, The Justice League of America, honed to JUSTICE LEAGUE for millennial cred. (The first ever group of comicbook supers that banded together was DC’s The Justice Society of America in 1940. The League debuted in 1960. And for historical context, Marvel’s Fantastic Four became supers in 1961, and the Avengers and X-Men teams both started cos-playing in 1963.)

And I find it hard to fathom – what – the – hell – everyone is whining about.

JUSTICE LEAGUE, which seems to have attracted every NON-lover of comics as a critic, is a fine superhero film, Movie Maniacs! It won’t win any awards, but not only does it feature literally the greatest superheroes in world history – Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Aquaman and Cyborg – it is crafted with sincerity and humor, enough quiet interactions to humanize its gods, and enough bombast to satisfy a CGI nerd.

Steppenwolf: Born to be mild.

There is but one overarching problem with JUSTICE LEAGUE – the villain. As we all know: A hero is nothing without a compelling villain; The more interesting the villain, the more exciting the hero; Two sides of the same damaged coin; Yin and Yang… However you phrase this, JUSTICE LEAGUE is an example of the misstep of presenting a literal two-dimensional villain, thereby making all its heroes look flat.

A wormhole opens on Wonder Woman’s island of Themiscyra (featuring Connie Nielsen as Queen TouchMyBottom), and down flies the CGI villain Steppenwolf. Myriad ideas have been posited on why JUSTICE LEAGUE “fails” – from the Amazons showing too much man-ab, to Superman’s ‘stache – but it’s the not-quite-realistic computer-generated villain! Looking vaguely like Liam Neeson fashioned from runny candle wax, this Steppenwolf is no magic carpet ride. He’s a video game. It’s BEOWULF meets I AM LEGEND. DC, you idiots! You couldn’t afford one more above-the-line actor (Gary Oldman, Geoffrey Rush, Eric Bana, Dolph Lundgren, et al) to give this villain heft? Even the guy voicing this abomination, Ciaran Hinds, would have made a fearsome bad guy; instead, we get the laughable confrontation between humans and cartoon.

To make matters worse, Steppenwolf doesn’t have any compelling backstory or characteristics, except that he enjoys elocuting like Shakespeare in the Park, and comes with a big side of winged mothmen that DC lovingly calls parademons – simpleton minions that feed on fear. There is a hurried exposition on his absurd motivation: gathering three “motherboxes” that will allow him to destroy the world blah blah (although, like so many supervillains before him, he seems to have all the power in the universe at his behest even without the motherboxes – I mean, if you can take a punch from Superman and still be able to sire kids, that goes on the top of the résumé for life!). But with no foreshadowing of his reputation, without the first idea of his powers or limitations, the role itself is merely a shallow antagonist trope. There is no ambiguity in Steppenwolf, no mitigation of his evil that might turn our sympathies. He sticks the superhero landing in Themiscyra, bitchslaps a few trannies and quite easily steals the first of the three motherboxes…

Why should we care, when the Amazonians kept this coveted, planet-crushing box in an open room? The Atlanteans (Aquaman’s people) are no better, keeping their entrusted box in an open underwater room. Step two for Steppenwolf. At least the humans – who are criticized for burying their box merely three feet underground – BURIED their box!…

It is this last motherbox that Cyborg acquires, that primes the plot to reanimate Big Blue [can we get a snatch of John Williams’ epic Superman Theme? Just a snatch? No? DisaPPOINted!]– But hang on! Did the humans leave their box unguarded? Of course they did – it was buried! But if it was that easy to locate, why didn’t Steppenbro grab this one first? Or did Cyborg have to punch someone to acquire it? If so, it was so easy that the battle isn’t even shown. And if they just gave it to Cyborg, how could they know he was a good guy? Avoiding these pertinent questions, Cyborg just lands with it, and the League rendezvous at Bruce Wayne’s bat-mansion to have coffee over it.

After finding that punching and flashing and wondering and batmobiling and aquamanning and borging are not curbing Steppenwolf’s steppin’, Batman lightbulbs on a great marketing ploy – bring back Superman! The same conscience that caused Batman to attack Superman (in BATMAN V SUPERMAN: DAWN OF JUSTICE) is now eating away at him; he harbors the guilt of destroying a person who was “more human than me.” And DC can sell more dolls.

The League’s debate over using the otherworldly motherbox to resurrect the man from another world, reminds me of that discussion in STAR TREK IV to “slingshot around the sun to travel back in time.” That science-y TREK debate went something like, “blah blah slingshot around the sun to travel back in time” and someone said, “Why, that’s crazy!” and someone else said, “But it just might work!” and they did it and it worked and everyone was happy. In JUSTICE LEAGUE, the conversation was much more realistic, and went something like, “blah blah use the motherbox to bring back Superman” and someone said, “Why, that’s crazy!” and someone else said, “But it just might work!” and they did it and it worked and everyone was happy.

It’s ironic how Bruce, arguing to bring back Superman (even against Barry’s caveat of turning into PET SEMATARY), says, “Even if there’s a fraction of a chance that it might work, we have to try,” for that was his exact reason for killing Superman – the “fraction of a chance” that Superman might destroy Earth. “The world needs Superman, and the team needs Clark.” That would be Superman’s alter ego, Clark Kent… you know, the guy who DIED in the last movie. Since Clark doesn’t interact with society in this film, the explanations of his return to life can be left for another sequel. And his dolls weren’t selling anyway.

Now here is an example of the “Interesting Villain” clause in action: When Superman is resurrected (like Jesus!) he is discombobulated enough to attack the entire League, thereby making him the villain for a few moments. Why is this segment compelling? No, not because Henry Cavill is shirtless, but because Superman is an interesting villain – more interesting than as a hero, even! – and the League superheroes (called “meta-humans” by Bruce, because – street cred) seem more relevant when trying to quell Superman’s anger at being woken, even if they are ineffectual against his awe-inspiring might.

One of the coolest scenes is when Superman grabs the whole League by the pussy, and Flash ramps into super-speed to try to outflank him… and we see Superman turn his head to follow the Flash! Such POWER that makes even a cucumber… moist.

Superman. Clean shaven.

JUSTICE LEAGUE opens on Superman. Cellphone footage, with excited kids asking him questions. Here’s a prime example of another reviewer going overboard derogating this movie for the sake of being kewl. Reviewer writes that Superman comes off as aloof and doesn’t interact well with the kids. No such thing! Superman coolly answers their questions (describing the symbol on his chest as “hope”), and when they ask him, “What’s your favorite thing about Earth?” he gets a faraway look, and we are allowed to substitute anything we want (Lois Lane, his job, Lois naked, the yellow sun, Lois moaning, Chinese food, Lois in doggy position, Paris coffee, Lois choking on his—it could be anything!), and it cuts away before he can answer. That’s good storytelling! However, Reviewer read that look as ‘…a somber Superman that makes us yearn for Christopher Reeve.’ You’re an imperceptive tool, Reviewer. I just wish I remembered your name.

And why this sudden love for Chris Reeve? He cut a fine visual as Superman, yes, and he was a tireless activist, and his life ended tragically, but don’t imbue him with qualities that are demonstrably absent. Remember all those jokes about The Man of Wood? 40 years later, he’s Olivier?

Movie then cuts to a world devoid of Superman. After his death in BATMAN V SUPERMAN, giant black banners bearing the “S” symbol adorn world landmarks (giving hope to fanboys that they might see Superman return in his seamless black ballet outfit and rock star mullet). Crime rages in the streets – and once again I will thunder that I DETEST the way “crime” is represented by movies like this: thugs being arrested and tipping over fruit crates in their anger; as if “crime” is these small-time hoods, when these are the bottom-rung symptom of the true crimes being committed by people in high office. A world without hope. Because of thugs in the streets. Not because Russia tampered in American elections, and the president committed high treason, no.

The first hero shot is a low angle upskirt, showing us Wonder Woman’s glorious black nun’s panties. (What was that again about empowering women?) A re-introduction to her powers as she saves civilians with her bracelets and super-speed, and prevents terrorists from blowing up a bank by kicking them sensually.

Aquaman is no longer for the fishes. He’s for the laydayz!

Then we see Bruce searching the arctic wasteland for Arthur Curry, “the Aquaman.” The best line: “He comes on the King Tide.” (I dunno – I just love that line!) Lion-maned, body-painted, leather-panted Jason Momoa ain’t your daddy’s yellow-and-green sea-queen, as he polishes a bottle of whiskey before diving shirtless into the tempest. When it comes to rebooting characters, Aquaman – with his Haight-Ashbury ethos, quindent (not trident!), his haughty derring-do and laughter in the face of overwhelming odds – is surely one of the coolest in superhero history. And wettest. That means YOU, ladies!

Then another great scene, done to death in the trailers: Bruce visits young Barry Allen’s man-cave and throws a bat-shuriken at him. Barry steps aside and plucks it out of the air. Listen to the sound design on this scene alone – sparkling steely shinks and crackling electricity. (Or the sound design on Cyborg walking, or the snippet of Danny Elfman’s Batman Theme when Batman appears to Gordon; throughout, this movie’s sound and music are pitch perfect.)

And the representation of Barry’s super-speed is breathtaking! An aspect which filmmakers got so wrong with Jeff East running alongside the train in SUPERMAN, the Flash’s running scenes here are accompanied by arc-lightning searing the air around him, the scarlet speedster himself tilting forward in dynamic-momentum slomo, which gives the impression he can travel much faster than Evan Peters’ Quicksilver. Flash’s quirky personality, although not canon, is very entertaining. They’ve made him post-teen (in direct competition with his ambiguously-gay TV counterpart), and he’s not a forensic scientist – he’s some kind of millennial nerd just discovering his powers, although I don’t know why they had to mess with his sleek comics costume and make him look like a Transformer.

The Flash: faster than a teening bullet.

Flash confesses to Batman before a fracas with parademons, that he is not ready for battle, that he has only “pushed people and run away”; it makes for the most poignant moment in the film, when Batman, ever the tactician, quickly gives Flash a purpose. In that gritty voice: “Save one.” That’s how heroes begin. “Save one person. Don’t talk. Don’t fight. Get in. Get one out.” He really heard Flash. It gave Batman’s character such empathy and heft.

Billy Crudup as Barry’s dad, Mr. Flash. In jail. Canon. Another solid aspect of this film is how they tie up all these minor characters in the end.

Cyborg/Victor Stone (a character created in 1980) was not in the original 1960’s Justice League (and retconned as a founding member in 2011), and I don’t care much for the character, but I understand the marketing reason he is here – for the Iron Man demographic. Doing double duty with the minority demo. Nice seeing Joe Morton (who died after creating Skynet) as Victor Stone’s father, Mr. Cyborg. Trying to keep his son alive by using the motherbox, he only succeeded in turning Victor into a cyberfreak. So Victor also fulfills the Spidey demo, by being a troubled youth (“Ever since Superman, people have been waiting for the next alien invasion. Now I gotta wonder if I’m it.”) He discovers various powers as he goes, like a constantly upgrading iPhone.

Amy Adams, as Superman’s love, Lois Lane, has so little to do and so much gorgeous to do it in. There is no time to re-establish her as investigative journalist, or even to visit with Perry White and The Daily Planet. Adams merely fulfills the role of pining girlfriend, and secret weapon to stop Superman angrily grabbing the League, to romantically grabbing hers. And I think they filmed all her scenes before Hair and Makeup could even smooth out her bed-head. Her scenes with Supes are short but poignant, and it almost seems Adams is way too talented to be “wasting” her time on a superhero movie – but her depth and crystal sotto voce lends weight to the romance. She is also the link to Superman’s mother (Diane Lane), whose reunion with her son is touching.

J.K. Simmons takes time off from abusing musicians to play Commissioner Gordon like a tight snare. (He was already J. Jonah Jameson in Raimi’s SPIDER-MAN movies. Shouldn’t there be some rule that if you were already in a Marvel movie, you can’t be in a DC movie?) Aren’t there any other actors to hire? If you want the fucking part, earn it!

“Trying to please these fan-dorks is a mission impossible…”

One of the minor characters is a major player: Bruce’s liege, Alfred (Jeremy Irons). His few lines are profound, and I wish we had time for more. Maybe he could have reminded Batman of that batsuit with the glowing eyes that made him as strong as Superman, which would really help right now with Steppenguy. Is it at the cleaners?

The most minor character is actually the Justice League’s greatest villain in the comics, and is relegated to an Easter Egg mention by Steppendude, “For Darkseid!” simply for fanboys to gush over. Who else would be aware of this hulking New God (the analog to Marvel’s Thanos) except people who attend the theater with wraparound Steppenwolf horns?

For a movie that seemingly moves at breakneck pace, there are many heartfelt moments between the group’s members. Barry and Victor actually dig up Superman’s coffin, with Barry trying to get a fist-bump, which Victor denies him. During the final hero shot, Barry gets his fist-bump; it’s not highlighted, simply another small detail that the film gets right, and that its critics will never be attuned to.

Wonder Woman/Diana does the old “tending-wounds-intimately” scene with Batman, where they philosophize over lost loves. However, whatever sexual position Bruce is cultivating with Diana is shredded when Superman appears, and Diana is the first to gush, “He’s back!” All talk of her lost love (Steve Trevor from WWII) is forgotten, as this super woman realizes the only person who can properly pound her is a super man, and her eyes go directly to the place where he now doesn’t wear panties.

During the League’s darkest punching hour, Superman appears with the cheesy line: “I believe in truth… I’m also a big fan of justice.”

When Batman sees this, he spurts a little in his tighty-blackies.

Possum codpieces and black nun’s panties – a winning combination.

As soon as the man of steel addresses the problem, it is resolved within minutes. This includes: saving civilians, preventing the motherbox from melding three-into-one (how Christian of it!), and defeating Steppenwolf. Quod erat demonstrandum. This movie’s slogan is, “You can’t save the world alone.”

Well, you can if you’re Superman.

And in modern film, his powers can be depicted as the most breathtaking we’ve ever seen. Every time he takes off, there is a sonic boom as he disappears in a haze of blue blur; his flying is seamless, his strength simply awe-inspiring – as when he shows the youngster Flash how it’s done, by carrying a building full of people, as Flash saves just one van-full.

But what’s the big deal with his mustache that no one can see? Poor Henry Cavill had to contractually retain a giant porn-stache for his role in MISSION IMPOSSIBLE 6, during reshoots of JUSTICE LEAGUE. So the LEAGUE digital artists painted over it. And the internet collapses with this news. And critics sacrifice their viewing pleasure to gaze intently at Cavill’s philtrum to nitpick single frames… Go on. Stare all you want. You’ll get so bored trying to find fault with Cavill’s perfect features, you might even start paying attention to the movie again. If it weren’t for the studios leaking the mustache imbroglio, no one would ever have known!

One of the two post-credits scenes features my two favorite supers: Superman and The Flash. They both gots to know… as they take their marks on a deserted road…

JUSTICE LEAGUE’s faults are more to do with expectations than lack of quality or fun movie-making. The plot is simple, the villain unremarkable, the story sometimes lacking in logic and depth; however, the movie itself features the greatest incarnations in filmic history of the superheroes of DC’s Golden Age, taking every aspect into account, from the production design to the performances, from the casting to the special effects.

Different age groups will have their faves – Kirk Alyn’s 1948 SUPERMAN, Chris Reeve’s 1978 SUPERMAN, Michael Keaton’s 1989 BATMAN, Christian Bale’s 2008 DARK KNIGHT; with television lagging far behind, with Linda Carter’s 1975 WONDER WOMAN, and John Wesley Shipp’s 1990 THE FLASH; with Aquaman and Cyborg never represented on the silver screen until now – but we arrive at a pinnacle in movie history with JUSTICE LEAGUE.

Cavill, with his angular face so like Reeve’s and his body built by Adonis, purveys the nuance and silent majesty of a being that can crush a planet, with creative flying scenes and mega-human power that packs a visceral punch; Affleck has shown his vigilante’s violent tendencies and a poignant side, as well as the most muscled bulk of any Batman, and tech that only a billionaire could possess; Gadot’s Wonder Woman charged onto the silver screen with female empowerment and tritones screaming, power like a goddess and thighs to match; while Jason Momoa rips apart the conventional image of the fey fish-talker to slam down his rambunctious brawler – He comes on the King Tide!; and only with modern computer graphics could we begin to visualize the surreal time-warping ultrasonic velocities of Ezra Miller’s fastest man alive.

It’s for those of us who believe in heroes, Movie Maniacs!

JUSTICE LEAGUE ends with narration that brings a tear to my eye, telling of:

“…heroes, to remind us that hope is real.
All you have to do…
is look…
up in the sky.”

Oh god, I nearly did what Batman did.

END

Superman in a bra.

Thighs shaved smoother than a cucumber. Cupid-bow lips. Armored breast. Screenings for Lesbians Only. The first ever feature film for the DC superhero WONDER WOMAN has already caused its fare share of controversy and orgasm.

It seems as if critics are only lauding this Patty Jenkins-directed film for fear of retribution from the female gender, and as contriteness for heaping such derision on the female-driven GHOSTBUSTERS last year. The first female superhero movie? Oh, it’s the best movie ever made! Best superhero movie by a mile! Totally “gets it” for women!

You lost me at lesbian screenings.

WONDER WOMAN is undoubtedly a thrilling tale, with excellent production values, an origin story not done to death like Batman’s or Spider-Man’s, its star an alluring neophyte in man-dribbling mini-skirt, with a scarring orchestral theme that halts armies and storms ramparts! (The bed of Hans Zimmer drums, the wailing banshee tritones of Junkie XL; insistent, vertiginous, clawing into your cerebral cortex!) Yet the movie fails to jolt into the upper climes of superherodom. Maybe it does for feminists and those boyfriends who need to gain access to feminist panties, however as part of the DC Extended Universe, WONDER WOMAN fails to grapple with the darkness and depth of MAN OF STEEL or BATMAN V SUPERMAN. It gets very close though. As close as a shaved thigh on a pouty face.

From Here To Themiscyra.

Wonder Woman’s origin story (created by William Moulton Marston in 1941) was originally set during World War II. WONDER WOMAN (written by Alan Heinberg, Zack Snyder and Jason Fuchs) is set in WWI, because the filmmakers wanted “social innocence” (read as women being treated like second-class citizens without repercussions: they wanted Diana to be out of place when brought to 1900’s London, yet unable to change the social climate).

Other than the era change, Wonder Woman comes to us as we remember her: embarrassingly patriotic red-white-and-blue garb, shield, sword (called the “god-killer”), Lasso of Hestia (aka Lasso of Truth), and tiny black nun’s panties covered with armored platelet and a gold-rimmed corset that makes us yearn after that and those.

A brief prologue shows Diana Prince aka Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot) in modern times, looking at a vintage 1918 photograph of herself (see SIDEBAR). Then we are flashed back to a sun-soaked paradise island – Themiscyra, where we find a city of warriors bred for battle, ruling their land with wisdom and strength, running a society with ingenuity and intelligence, with no need for the opposite gender except for procreation; in other words, a society of men— Uh oh! Now I’m in trouble. No, not men – Amazons! Wild warrior women!

We meet young Diana (remarkable Lilly Aspell), mimicking General Antiope (statuesque Robin Wright, bringing her sensual venom from HOUSE OF CARDS and expressing it in real battle). Connie Nielsen is Diana’s doting mother, Queen Hippolyta, describing Diana’s birth (molded from clay by Zeus). And what is that accent they’re all using? Are they reverse-engineering Gal Gadot’s exotic Israeli accent into the full Amazon cast?

Baby Diana is trained by Antiope until she blossoms into Gal Gadot, faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap— well, you know. And that is the movie’s contradictory misstep: Diana and the Amazons are bred for one thing – battle against Ares (Hippolyta warned: “Ares the god of war turned men against one another and war ravaged the earth”) – yet when grown Diana wants to lend her fighting bosom to the World War because she suspects Ares’ meddling, the first thing the Amazons do is disown her, telling her The legends are not true!… See? Now do you get the reason why this movie is not credible? And you thought I was just being sexist.

Y’know, if you try to find a picture of Wonder Woman that ISN’T prurient – you will fail.

When American pilot Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) crash-lands on Themiscyra and inadvertently leads Germans to its shores, the warrior women launch into sexy battle and win. (Fist-up for woman empowerment and all that.) Sexy and kiddie-clean, as there is no blood whatsoever in this balletic battle utilizing blades, arrows and guns. Antiope even takes a bloodless bullet for Diana. (But I thought their armor was bullet-proof, or is that just Diana’s gauntlets? Even so, the pellets from these old-fashioned guns couldn’t have done that much damage – why not rush Antiope to that pool of rejuvenation that they put Steve in? Movies, huh?)

Steve, an American spy, importunes the Amazons to join him in the war effort, telling them of the villainous General Ludendorff (Danny Huston), and his chemical warfare mistress, Dr. Poison (Elena Anaya), from whom he stole deadly information. But the Amazons do not believe, as Diana does, that Ares is behind the “war to end all wars,” so decide to bravely sit out this world conflict. Diana is forced to steal the shield, lasso and sword, and sail off as a runaway with Steve. She’s painted as a rebel because Wonder Woman, like Superman, threatens to become a boring character if she is all-pure. Hippolyta laments to Diana, “If you choose to leave, you may never return.” (Uh, one good reason, please?)

Yet… as Hippolyta watches her daughter disappear over the waves, she proclaims, “The more she knows, the sooner he will find her,” meaning she ADMITS Ares is behind the war, also revealing she has not told Diana something important. We would learn later it is Diana herself who is the “god-killer.” And there was no reason to keep that secret. And if Hippolyta is so dubious of Diana’s battle prowess, why not just mobilize her army of lazy Amazon bitches and join the war effort?

You lost me at star-spangled underpants.

Back in smog-choked 1918 London, it’s fish-out-of-water time as Diana tries to fit in with a misogynistic society where women are subservient, like Steve’s assistant Etta (Lucy Davis, still a secretary; in THE OFFICE, sensual; here, frumpy). Diana enters the all-male House of Lords, led by David Thewlis. She berates the generals, not understanding how they can knowingly “sacrifice all those lives.” Answer: Because all men are pigs, right girls?!

Superhero sugar high.

Movie is funny in innocuous ways: Diana tells Steve, “Only an Amazon can defeat Ares.” He replies, “We need to get to London and try to find the men who can.” She retorts, “I’M the men who can!” It’s cute because it’s true.

Homage to SUPERMAN: they put glasses on Diana as a disguise; she stops a bullet in an alley mugging; she gads about in a big cloak to cover her armor/nakedness.

The old trope of Steve recruiting his men while they’re engaged in bar fights – Said Taghmaoui, Ewen Bremner and Eugene Brave Rock (very cool to include a Native American on this ragtag team); the three men who would be in that amazing cross-generational photo.

Quite childishly romantic, as Steve and Diana spend but one night together in a hotel room, before they will be separated by tragedy; although I’m thinking of the logistics on how a super-powered being can ever be satisfied by a mortal, even if he is the Captain of the Enterprise. Superman’s Kryptonian thrusts are two decades away.

At the front lines, the team is pinned down in a trench. Steve yells, “This is No Man’s Land; no MAN can cross it!” Oh, here we go – fist-up for substituting the word ‘woman.’ Thankfully, they don’t, and instead go for the jugular with the Wonder Woman reveal.

Slow motion, Diana climbs out of the trench, shrugs off her cloak, revealing the battle armor that wouldn’t cover a midget (prompting all male genitals to slowly “unfold”), and steps into the mud of No Man’s Land. Somehow, she has her sword and shield, boots, gauntlets, thighs, waterfall raven tresses babbling over naked shoulders, flap of groin-skirt sensually teasing, you could almost taste the pearbottom… In this hero shot, violins chug, smoke drifts, she looks like Linda Carter – the movie has won! –

Bullets scream at her, they ping off her gauntlets and shield, and then, the chugging is joined by those temple-throbbing drums – and the jarring tritone theme unleashes its fury. We almost wet our groin-platelets in ecstasy.

She takes on armed Germans, clobbering, swishing, deflecting bullets; flawless skin, vermilion lips, corded thighs, nun’s panties, raven locks… I don’t know where you’re looking, but my cinema experience is a wonder…

DC movies have started to follow a dangerous pattern (no, not just the new longer motion logo, which Cinema Sins will go ape over): their third acts devolve into eye-shattering CGI battles that would do TRANSFORMERS films proud. It was great in MAN OF STEEL, as Superman used his powers of flight and strength in ways that had never been visualized before; the city-sized explosions became a little tiresome in BATMAN V SUPERMAN, but here… they’ve bought the farm on predictable and overblown with Wonder Woman versus Ares, just clobbering the shit out of the greenscreen.

The villain gets to soliloquy on “wiping out Mankind and bringing paradise to the Earth,” which I can’t find fault with. She actually answers, “I can never be a part of that!” Give me one good reason why you don’t want paradise on Earth again? But the audience is not given the chance to ponder contradictions, as now Wondy is fighting a gigantic Viking special effect with a man-skort. How can she possibly win against this obviously stronger god? Answer: more special effects.

The big questions in play in WONDER WOMAN (Is Mankind worth saving? Will love save the world? Is every human both darkness and light?) become totally irrelevant due to the movie’s own plot. You see, after Wonder Woman defeats the Visual Effects Department (aka Ares), all the Germans break out of a trance and become good again. They’re telling us that all that “morality” and “love of war” has nothing to do with human free will, but possession by Ares! Which means that questioning Mankind’s dual nature, and capability for love, and busting out the painfully trite “They are warlike – yet noble” speech can all be boiled down to, “Just keep Ares away from them, they’ll be okay.”

“It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” Diana’s opening and closing maudlin narration makes us cringe, as the filmmakers try to tie Wonder Woman to William Marston’s original ethos – that she would combat hate (i.e. war) with love (i.e. breasts). “I have seen the terrible things men do to each other in the name of hatred, and the lengths they’ll go to for love.” My gorge is rising, as well as… “Only love can save this world. So I stay. I fight, and I give… for the world I know can be. This is my mission. Now. For ever.”

And a cheese factory exploded in London.

END

3 Days of Swill.

Kevin Costner is suitably grizzled CIA agent Ethan Renner, suffering from a terrible case of Screenwriting Clichés: he’s got The Hollywood Cancer with 3 months to live and he’s got The Estranged Wife and  The Strong-Willed Teen Daughter whom he is Trying To Connect With while he’s on One Last Mission with 3 DAYS TO KILL.

Will he survive? No, not survive the hitmen sent to 86 him, not survive the agency tailing him, not survive the cops getting in the way of his assassination – will he survive his teenage daughter wearing too much makeup to an all-night rave?

In this well-produced action-comedy, shot around England, from a screenplay by master fantasist Luc Besson, Costner is suitably hard and makes some cool killing moves, but his performance is brought down by the WATERWORLD Syndrome: that is, Hard Guy becomes Softee to take care of female. Happens in TRANSPORTER; happens in THE POSTMAN; happens in GROSSE POINTE BLANK. But it never needs to happen – the hero could be protective and still hard (TRUE GRIT, DIE HARD, MILLION DOLLAR BABY), but that mindless cliché of leaching the hero’s masculinity is usually mishandled for gutless pc purposes.

So Ethan is emasculated. First, the disease, then the smokin’ wife who disrespects him (Connie Nielsen with sensual orange locks, looking like an elder version of Kirsten Dunst), then the daughter who keeps whining, and then — Amber Heard as undercover agent Vivi (whose idea of being undercover is to dress like every man’s idea of a prostitute), who hires/blackmails Ethan to kill an operative called The Wolf (Richard Sammel), in return for a cancer cure. Tooling around with a look that says Move over and let me blow you, the chain-smoking Vivi turns up and kills all the guys Ethan is supposed to be killing, because he’s getting so humorously old, which leads us to question the redundancy of one of them at least. (Let’s just lose Ethan and watch the whore in the leather and wigs try to look inconspicuous.)

Hailee Steinfeld (TRUE GRIT 2010) is the annoying daughter, and Tómas Lemarquis (SNOWPIERCER) is The Albino. An assortment of guys who all look like thick-necked Russian thugs play thick-necked Russian thugs. And I still can’t figure the subplot of the black family squatting in Ethan’s apartment.

Though the movie has some dry humorous turns, its punch is further ruined by McG‘s fartsy direction (that’s artsy-fartsy without the artsy).

END

Unleashing Helle.

Truly GLADIATOR is the stuff of great fiction; a story so well-orchestrated and superbly told, there might well have been in Roman history a general who became a slave, a slave who became a gladiator, a gladiator who won an Oscar.

But – as they used to say in ancient Rome – “only in Hollywood…”

Poffus Decimus Cucumberus

Russell Crowe is Ancient Roman General Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of a fierce and loyal army that has conquered the known world under Emperor Marcus Aurelius (regal, world-weary Richard Harris). Maximus plans to retire to his olive gardens with wife and son, but the sickly Emperor has other ideas, bequeathing Maximus the stewardship of Rome over that of his natural-born son and rightful heir, the fey Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix). When Commodus discovers this slight, he cries a little, promptly kills his father, arrests Maximus, and gets progressively feyer.

Commodus then invents the James-Bond-Batman-Death, that is, don’t kill your nemesis quickly and efficiently in full view, order your incompetent men to take him somewhere and probably kill him if he doesn’t use his dangerous ingenuity and superior combat skills to escape. This also guarantees you are completely in the dark as to whether your enemy is dead, until he appears unexpectedly somewhere and vexes you.

This Maximus does, defying Commodus and leaving him terribly vexed.

Thereby arriving at Part Three of the slogan. In the interim, Maximus discovered his family was crucified by Commodus, which caused Maximus untold Academy Award-Winning Acting, subsequently collapsing in the desert and taken into slavery. The gladiator merchant, Proximo (Oliver Reed, gravel-throated, rheumy-eyed – his last performance before going to that great arena in the sky) handpicks the indifferent yet lethal Maximus to join his stable of gladiators (which includes neighborly Numidian, Djimon Hounsou and man-mountain Ralf Moeller). Proximo scores a gig at The Coliseum, for the pleasure of now-Emperor Commodus.

As Darth Vader thoomed, “The circle is now complete.” Break out the lightsabers.

There were arena skirmishes before this Coliseum, but the “Battle of Carthage” reenactment is the grandest rockstar battle for Proximo’s now-renowned gladiator troop, inspired and led by Maximus, as stirring and blood-pounding as BEN-HUR’s chariot race. GLADIATOR’s raucous, blood-glutted battle scenes are fitting successors to the “realistic” warfare of BRAVEHEART and SAVING PRIVATE RYAN (although I am still befuddled at how swords and knives make steely ‘shink’ sounds even if they’re just being swished about in the air!).

“Are you not entertained?”

His helmet disguising his identity, Maximus rallies “his” gladiators to defeat the lethal Imperial chariot-riders in the arena, to the surprise of Commodus, who wishes to meet the upstart who would not even salute the throne, let alone die conveniently for the public’s pleasure. Maximus reveals himself to Commodus, who is driven to remarkable heights of feyness.

Discovering Maximus is alive makes not only Commodus weak in the knees – so too his sister, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), who pined for him back when her father the Emperor owned Maximus’s taut butt. Her betrayal of Commodus sets in motion the third act, steeped in politics of reclaiming Rome as a republic, and therefore losing some of its heavy metal verve.

Beautifully filmed, in ochre tones (by director Ridley Scott and cinematographer John Mathieson), Hans Zimmer‘s score providing the perfect burnt umber flavoring, GLADIATOR nabbed Russell Crowe a Best Actor Oscar – even though Joaquin Phoenix did all the actual acting! Crowe pulls the Bruce Willis for most of the film, while Phoenix’s sway-tilt emotions are a disturbing rainbow of subtlety. (Yes, we all know the technical distinctions between Lead Actor and Supporting Actor, defined by that banal, backslapping insular coterie of hedonists and elitists – I think they’re called The Academy of Motion Picture Pooftas – but Phoenix’s screentime matches that of Crowe’s, his input is as important, and his fate intertwines with that of the hero’s to forge the film structure. How about a little love for the guy who worked twice as hard as Bruce Willis redux?)

From his bitter asphyxiation of his father, while lamenting he did not possess any of the Four True Virtues his father sought in a leader, to the scene where his arm draped across his nephew (Spencer Treat Clark) goes from one of familial protection to that of fatal threat without moving it one iota, simply by switching his demeanor from that of storyteller to tragic lament of his sister’s betrayal, Phoenix’s performance is absolutely stunning – that of a weak man, filled with disillusionment, contempt, envy, indecision; conflicting emotions constantly dancing across his face, flickers of smiles when we know he wants to cry humiliation, edging tears when we know he would rather lash out like the simple animal he is. It is Acting of a caliber few writers or directors could even describe, let alone trust an actor to convey.

“What we do in life echoes in eternity.”

Leaping Tiger, Hidden Puppet.

Well, maybe. Depending on what eternity you’re talking about. For all its awe-inspiring action and chest-beating man-sweat, GLADIATOR has its faults: writers David Franzoni, John Logan and William Nicholson can’t figure what ancient civilization they’re writing for. These are ROMANS, boys. So when Maximus pep talks his men at the film’s opening battle “…if you find yourself alone, riding in green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled, for you are in Elysium – and you are already dead!,” his troops should have replied, “Excuse sir, but isn’t that where GREEKS go?”

Granted, Romans were a confused culture, due to melding their mythologies with Greeks, but there is no excuse for Maximus to end up in a CHRISTIAN afterlife. Romans and Greeks believed in an Underworld (overlorded by Hades/Pluto/Dis Pater, etc.) where everyone ended up, not just the evil. It was a dark, unforgiving journey, not – as christian mythology preaches – a fantasy existence where you “live out” eternity as you had dreamed of living your Earthly life. If, as the writers tell us, Maximus believed in Elysium, why didn’t he end up there? Another jab at the “unreal” Roman/Greek religions and another home run for the Christ-crucifier’s team.

Greek and Roman mythology is not as plastic as christian mythology, which is still morphing with every new Jesus movie or senile pope that amends christian tenets to appeal to their ever-dwindling flocks. It is a simple task to stick to the established myths tabulated in Virgil, Ovid, Homer, Aeschylus et al.

So when Maximus commands, “At my signal, unleash hell,” it makes for a great schoolyard quote – but the Imperial Romans had no word for hell! His men should have replied, “Unleash what? Hel, the Norse goddess? Or Helle, the chick who fell into and hence named the Hellespont? Or Helios, the Greek sungod? Or maybe the Hellas?” – which was another name for – the Greeks! But I think unleashing those man-sized flaming arrows did more damage than any contradictory christian concept.

In his prayers, Maximus appeals to a “Blessed Father” – Jupiter? Janus? GLADIATOR pulls no punches when depicting the slaughter of countless of god’s creations, yet is too gutless to depict polytheism. Especially in the Lead Actor with the Oscar push.

When Maximus prays to the effigies of his wife and son and the Numidian asks, “What do you say to them?” he answers, “To my son – I tell him I will see him again soon. To keep his heels down while riding his horse. To my wife… that is not your business.” Big bonding laugh. Let me get this straight: he’s joking about sticking it to his raped and crucified wife in the afterlife? Is that not inappropriate? Are you not entertained?

“It vexes me. I’m terribly vexed.”

Maximus is not considered a pervert for his sick comment, yet Commodus is portrayed as one for wanting to bed his sister. Many Old World civilizations based their genealogies on interfamilial relationships – incest. Children were raised to believe that was the only way to retain their “pure royal blood.” It was actually taboo to mix spit with strangers or lower castes. But not all siblings were of the same mother, so it wasn’t as disgusting as you might think. And it is uncertain when these practices ceased. Many history books shy away from the subject. Either way, Commodus was Emperor – and the Emperor always got his way, wrong, right, or off the deep end. He specifically states to his sister, “You will provide me with an heir of pure blood,” meaning that her current son from another husband is not “pure” enough – only a union between brother and sister would produce a pureblood heir. The filmmakers play this like a perverted, incestuous rape threat yet this actually was the way of the ancient world.

Yet there is Cardboard Connie, playing Lucilla with a sexual recalcitrance reflecting three thousand years of retrospect and current social taboo, rather than acting like a woman of that period. Her helmet on MISSION TO MARS should’ve been this airtight…

“…shadows and dust…”

Commodus all in white, Maximus stumbling from a stab wound and seeing his predestination christian homecoming, Lucilla giving a eulogy that makes our flesh crawl, the Numidian (who had his own religious beliefs) succumbing to the christian myths (after all, they are the right ones, of course! Not like those other stupid religions, which christians are still trying to wipe off the face of the Earth) and sotto voce, “We will see each other again – but not yet!”…

Apparently, Maximus is “going home.” Believe in a myth hard enough and it will come true. Like the slave who became a gladiator, the gladiator who became a Wikipedia article, the Wikipedia article that defied verification.

Hail Caesar and all that. Romani Ite Domum.

END

Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your mascara on…

Mission To Farce.

MISSION TO MARS stands every bit as tall as CAPRICORN ONE in the Ignorant Space Movie category, exhibiting so many misdemeanors, misrepresentations, misapplied physics laws, mistaken facts, missteps, mysterious logic, and misapprehension of spacefaring dialect that one wonders which second-grader took three months off school to helm it.

Brian de Palma – the dark force behind 1983’s SCARFACE – appends his name as director. But I think he’s lying.

Starring Don Cheadle as the Crazy Black Guy, Gary Sinise (wearing more makeup than David Bowie on the Ziggy Stardust tour), Tim Robbins as The Tragic Apple-Pie Hero, Connie Nielsen as The Chick and Jerry O’Connell as The Fat Kid from STAND BY ME.

Poffy roving redundantly.

From its first space scenes, the film trumpets its ignorance, showing a remote rover aiding a manned mission on Mars. Audiences are so conditioned to robot helpers in space cinema (since Will Robinson and Dr. Smith leaned so heavily on theirs for comedic side-kickery in LOST IN SPACE of the 60s) that they do not realize this particular rover’s superfluity. Rovers are reconnoiter craft for unmanned missions – consequently, this 26-million-dollar redundancy would not exist in a space agency whose motto became “faster, cheaper, better” to appease the ignorant, impatient public and the even more ignorant, penny-pinching government. (That only two of these three aspects can exist simultaneously is another issue altogether. That is, you can have faster and cheaper, but it won’t be better; cheaper and better, but it won’t be delivered faster, etc.)

And from there, it’s downhill fast.

MISSION TO MARS is so machine-gun riddled with one discrepancy and fallacy after the next, that absolutely zero enjoyment can be gleaned from the storyline, performances or the space or planet backdrop effects.

Crazy Black Guy gets stranded on Mars. Blatantly throwing logic, budget, orbital mechanics and NASA protocol to the pigs, Apple-Pie, The Chick, Fat Kid and Ziggy are sent to rescue him. Another “launch window” to Mars is years hence, yet these American Pie Heroes – working on the fact that everyone in the film and the audience regard the launch window as a McGuffin – go anyway. Launching outside a “launch window” is not a “dramatic element that illustrates dedication and Team Spirit” – it is an impossibility. Without gravity assists (by flybys of Venus and Earth), a spacecraft already constructed for such a journey would have to be retrofitted to house inordinate amounts of additional propellant, construction exigencies alone putting the mission outside budget and payload constraints… No one can just declare their heroic intentions and have everything ready to go by Sunday – which is basically how Ziggy achieves his launch; to save someone openly considered dispensable by the space agency (who train scores of astronauts for the same missions, for just such eventualities), who may be a corpse anyway, considering all radio contact with him was lost.

You lost me at Houston, We Have a Problem.

NASA would more likely launch a mission to retrieve its ROVER, which has more intelligence in its antenna than all the astronauts combined.

Our rescuers discover a giant Face on Mars – that old 70’s superstition from the Viking 1 probe photo. In a space age where we have already disproved its existence, the film-makers opt to pander to conspiracy theorists, pseudo-scientists, astrologers and imbeciles who shun scientific evidence like the mystical “evil” they have been inculcated to believe is tangible. In a technological era that possesses extraterrestrial soft-landing spacecraft (Mars Pathfinder, launched 1996) and high-altitude surveillance (Mars Global Surveyor, launched 1996), given the fictional year of this movie (supposedly 2020), even if we need to regard The Face as “real” for the movie’s dramatic purposes, it should have been discovered decades before these astro-nots landed.

Instead, the movie ramps further into idiocy.

Near Mars orbit, the rescuers abandon their exploding ship (more obscene fallacies accompany the ship explosion than can be catalogued here); though, leaving in a dead fall, they still achieve enough orbital velocity to capture a supply module already in orbit. (Again, absolutely no respect is afforded physics laws, as Apple Pie fires up his jets and points directly at the module to catch it – but with the module in a lower orbit, he needs to fire his jets against the direction of his higher orbit to attain that lower orbit.)

Upon impossibly reaching the module, Pie goes flying past it as if he was in an atmosphere, setting up the most heinous crime this movie could commit on the unquestioning minds of its ape-like audience:

With Pie’s MMU (Manned Maneuvering Unit) out of fuel, Chick, supposedly a trained astronaut, uses the same incorrect directional jet burns and massive overacting to try to save him. Pie tells her, “You can’t catch me with your MMU, honey. Their jets are designed for attitude control, not travel.” Information which probably should have been learned at the Astronaut Academy, dontcha think? After the mathematical impossibility of saving Pie is explained to her like an idiot-child, she stops and – shoots a tether cable at him! Remember that silly thing we learned in grade school called Newton’s Third Law of Motion: “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction”? Taking for granted that Chick has miraculously attained orbital velocity of 28,000 kph, after shooting the tether, she retains her relative position, steady as a rock, in the vacuum of space – breaking one of the most fundamental physics laws, while everything else around her continues to adhere to those same laws! No one told Newton that enough overacting piled on the Third Law would negate its physics.

Speciously landing on Mars, Crazy Black Guy is found (spearing fish and talking to a volleyball named Wilson), whereupon ensue conversations about DNA that only a screenwriter with absolutely no biology knowledge could appreciate. Their super-redundant rover leads them into the Face on Mars, where they encounter a tall alien being wearing a flowing number that would look fabulous on Barbra Streisand.

Of course, helmets – as in all space movies – are completely arbitrary. Who knows why NASA spends so much useless time engineering environment suits when every planet in the universe – as LOST IN SPACE taught us – already has a breathable atmosphere? Before we can even ingest the next twenty stupidities that the movie flings at us like ape-poo, helmets on Mars are eschewed for the purpose of contractually appeasing the pretty movie stars and their agents who insist on verifiable screen time. (How else to prove it if there’s that unfashionable helmet obscuring the star’s $500 hairstyle?)

Barbra shows them a solar system hologram – with all the planets orbiting in the wrong direction (proving that there are idiot screenwriters even on Mars) – and a nifty morphing computer program which she bought from Michael Jackson, showing that Life on Earth was seeded from Life on Mars. Well, that accounts for all those Jerry Springer guests.

Every aspect of the DNA scenes, zero-gee scenes and orbital mechanics scenes is completely blundered from the dialogue to the action to the fallacious physics laws which go in and out of play as the plot requires; spacecraft do not emit vapor trails; sound does not propagate in a vacuum; galaxies don’t look that way in visible light; the atmosphere analyzer on Ziggy’s forearm shows “Nitrogen 56% Oxygen 20% Trace Gasses 1%” – the film-makers are so lazy that they do not even bother to make the numbers add up to 100 percent!

Movie writers always hide behind the pretext that movies are “only entertainment” and should be taken less seriously. Yet what kind of entertainment can be gleaned from a movie with this much blatant disregard for the most basic tenets of reality (such as: Humans Can’t Breath On Mars)? Why should society extol education and learning when this demeaning and insidious disrespect for learning is lauded with heathen funding and absolutely criminal promulgation? If they say they are appealing to “the masses,” how much of an insult is it to regard The Masses as this imbecilic? Unfortunately, there will be many who, being too young or underprivileged to have afforded an opportunity for education in basic physics, will enjoy this film – and thus the dumbing down of a generation acquires its target long before that generation even knows what hit it.

Every scientific fact that mankind has strove so hard to identify is treated like so much dross by the ignoramuses who forged this worthless and useless, deformed, retarded thing they call a movie, that their greatest punishment will be having to see their names attached to it for millennia to come.

END