“One hundred years ago on the 21st of April, out in the waters around Spivey Point, a small clipper ship drew toward land...”
I'll be honest y'all...this movie just makes me feel exhausted. Jokes pass mirthlessly, set pieces fail to get my heart rate up, the whole thing just...fucking...SITS THERE... I don't know, it's like Spielberg's weird doppelganger made the film, but that's a cop out, I just have to admit there's a big section of his heart where he lets in the redoubtable humor of George Lucas and the whole Gunga Din spirit of colonialist cinema with glee and verve…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Sam Cohen was looking for an excuse to leave. We'd gotten a beer at J.M. Curley's a few blocks away from the AMC Boston common, which is sandwiched between buildings on Emerson College’s campus, next-door to the Guy Fieri restaurant and, I think, an escape room. We kvetched about the state of cinema, about how every major awards film was bad, how movies in general were bad now. How we were born at the perfect time to watch cinema…
Someday someone will make a movie about David Bowie that doesn’t obfuscate his actual achievements and rely on the very literal language of myth but uhh today’s not that day. Stupefyingly unimaginative, this uses footage from movies starring Bowie (footage with one set of specific intentions) and footage of movies Bowie probably watched (with a completely different set of intentions at best tangentially related to what Bowie got out of them, at worst horrifically literal interpretations of what Bowie…