The Last Jedi: All that was plain wrong in an otherwise good film

<DISCLAIMER: MASSIVE PLOT SPOILERS AHEAD>

Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi came out last weekend, and it almost measured up to the hype. Beautiful CGI work, and brilliant lightsaber fight choreography show this film series has stood the test of time and stood its ground among a plethora of various other sci-fi and superhero movie series. A beautiful final performance by Carrie Fisher, Daisy Ridley as Rey, the future pallbearer of the Jedi religion, and Adam Driver as the deeply conflicted Kylo Ren (whose mildly underfed performance as the grandson of Darth Vader is still monumentally better than that of Hayden Christensen) carry much of the film’s soul forward.

However, despite the credit where its due, it is also a concern that The Last Jedi doesn’t eventually measure up to the standard set by many other films that have come out of the majestic Star Wars cannon. Plot holes, muddled character descriptions, misplaced distasteful comedy and chronological conveniences overshadow much of this spectacle, some key examples of which are as follows:

1. Who is Supreme Leader Snoke?
   
   
   
   Other than in a plethora of fan theories, this is the pertinent question filmmakers failed to address in both Episode 7 and Episode 8. This is a character who is leading the First Order, who has quite literally and quite single-handedly resurrected the Order populated by followers of the Dark Side of the Force, and is the apparent mentor of Kylo Ren a.k.a Ben Solo. Even Luke Skywalker mentioned that Snoke had been peering into the conflicted soul of Ben even while he was under Luke’s wing at the Jedi temple – how? Why? What is this guy’s history? Why did he look the way he did, all scarred-like? Many fans found similarities between him and Mace Windu but none of that is getting out of the realm of speculation any time soon.
   
   
2. Why is the film called 'The Last Jedi'?
   
   
   
   
   
   Ever since the release of the first trailer and ever since Luke said, “It is time for the Jedi to end,” there was a buzz amongst fans that this would mean the birth of a new religion through Rey – the Gray Jedi, a religion that would tread both the Dark and Light side of the force and have significantly more ‘balance’ (This was one word they threw around a lot throughout this film), without losing itself to the cold depths of the Dark side of the Force, while not being completely shackled in the monk-ish ways of the Jedi Order. There were further hopeful clues in the film when we come to know that Ben Solo might not have been completely seduced by the Dark Side and Luke’s intervention was what pushed him over, and that Rey might fill in those shoes eventually. However, the title is eventually revealed to be sort of a misnomer, with Rey taking sort of taking over from Luke and adopting the Jedi religion.
   
   
   I mean come on, anyone who is even mildly familiar with the concept of cinematic continuity knew that if nothing else, Rey the force sensitive character newly introduced in Episode 7, was going to become a Jedi. Why did you have go putting ideas into our heads, Rian Johnson??!!
   
   
   So yeah, THAT was a disappointment.
   
   
3. Why did Luke get killed off so early? And HOW DID HE DIE, really?
   
   
   So all those uneventful years after Episode 6, they feature Luke for 5 seconds on some random island at the end of Episode 7, to just retire him in Ep.8?? Luke vanishing into the air was one of the most unsatisfactory parts of this movie. The basic premise was, 
   “Hey Rey, I am not into training Jedis anymore, cause I like, fucked up bad with my incredibly force sensitive last disciple who was also my nephew. But guess what, I’m gonna train you, changed my mind. On second thought, you too goddamn strong girl, you go on ahead and become a jedi. Imma fool ol’ Ben with a hologram and die. Peace y’all!”
   
   
   Additionally, dear old Carrie Fisher’s no more. That means in the next episode the makers will have to come up with a half-baked side explanation for retiring Princess Leia off-screen. So there will be no more characters from Episodes 1-6 in the next Star Wars. Let that sink in. Now, wouldn’t it have been better to let Luke stay on longer and die a far more significant death than he did in Ep.8??!!
   
   
4. Yoda's confusing depiction
   
   
   
   
   
   The inimitable Jedi master Yoda is dead. He became one with the force and there is absolutely no question regarding that. Maybe the Star Wars saga should write a thesis on the extent of the power one can derive from the force, ESPECIALLY AFTER DEATH because we just saw a dead ‘person’ burn the Holy tree of the Jedi Order. If dead force-sensitive people are able to wield such powers, they should stop making these movies already, because then it would be a never-ending battle between light and dark, and more sooner than later, someone will feel bound to ask, what was the point really?/
   
   
5. The bonkers casino sequence 
   
   
   
   
   
   This was probably one of the most idiotic sequences written for any movie in this saga. Finn and Rose go to Canto Bight to find some ‘master codebreaker’ who they’ll take along with them to the Imperial Destroyer, and meddle around some machinery that would give the Rebellion ship ...6 minutes to get away from them untracked. Like that made any sense whatsoever. Then they are not able to find the ‘master codebreaker’ and settle for some looney played by Benicio del Toro who says that he can. That’s like going to buy a bespoke suit and returning with an off-the-rack item from the Gap. It doesn’t take an Einstein-ian IQ to understand how weak and poorly timed this plan was, but hey, whatever helps to pitch in del Toro’s speech on war profiteering.
   
   
6. Why is Captain Phasma such an insignificant side-show?
   
   
   
   
   
   I understand how massive it must feel to be a part of this amazing universe, even in the most miniscule capacities, but I still wonder why a name such as Gwendoline Christie (Brienne of Tarth in Game of Thrones) took on the role of Captain Phasma yet again for this film. Her character held promise when it was introduced in Episode 7, but even then it got a minimal amount of inconsequential screen time and that too under that chrome helmet. She is ushered into the movie again, and we are left waiting with the expectation of a grand fight between her and Finn with her face eventually getting revealed. Instead we see a half-assed excuse for a fight sequence, which ends in some minor damage to her helmet that just shows one eye, before she falls to a fiery death. Such wasted potential.
   
   
   Wait. They did something exactly similar to another character before. Remember this cool little guy called Boba Fett? Yeah, they had to give a nice, riveting backstory of a potentially badass character in a separate series of books. Wonder what's their spite against such characters in movies?

These points, and a variety of minor issues, such as the very limited utilisation of an actor such as Domhnall Gleeson in the role of General Hux (that too mostly for comic gags) are holes that are spread throughout the canvas on which the Last Jedi is painted. Nonetheless, the remaining picture is a more-than-decently constructed one. The film carries forward on the darker tone set by Rogue One, which is particularly why the comic gags seem sometimes weirdly out of place (the General Hugs sequence by Poe Dameron in the beginning), but undersells itself with a plot that doesn’t seem very ambitious for the name that it is carrying.   

Ragnarok could be worse, and Thor: Ragnarok could be better

I also want an adrenaline sequence all my own with the ‘Immigrant Song’ playing in the background! <So badass>

Before we proceed further, heartiest congratulations to director and madcap enthusiast Taika Watiti for reclaiming the phrase “Guilty pleasure” and painting Thor Ragnarok with it; body and innards.

Yep. That's him. Taika Watiti. The director. 

It’s indeed rare when one is faced with such a conundrum while watching a film – whether to stand up and marvel at this marvellous visual spectacle by Marvel, or to shout out cries of utter disappointment? This film, in an interestingly distinctive manner affords us both these opportunities. Such guilty-pleasure-abound it is.

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                           ... This is the funniest, most rib-tickling product by the Marvel banner yet, with often-misplaced moments of comedy that had me going, “Why is this being done? This is weird. I really don’t want to laugh at this. But it’s so funny!!” ...

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Thor: Ragnarok continues after the destruction of Sokovia in Avengers: Age of Ultron. The mighty Thor (Chris Hemsworth) has become a ‘lone wolf’ of sorts, and has been bumbling about the Nine Realms investigating about the Infinity Stones cropping up every here and now, when certain circumstances require him to face Hela, the Asgardian Goddess of Death (Cate Blanchett) and prevent Ragnarok i.e. Asgardian apocalypse. He and adoptive brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) almost join forces against her before they accidently land up on a garbage planet Sakaar ruled by a flamboyant being called Grandmaster(Jeff Goldblum), in whose gladiator pits he comes across ol’ green Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) who seems to have developed a limited baby vocabulary of his own. Rest of the film is about him forming a team and getting back to Asgard to? Prevent Ragnarok, of course.

Thor: Ragnarok is exceedingly predictable, literally all except the climax, and that’s despite the fact that it doesn’t really follow the comic but that’s not the problem with it; it is a comic book movie after all. The colour palette and action choreography is absolutely spectacular, with particular scenes (especially the opening sequence) being so close to comic book art, it’s astounding. And that’s definitely and obviously not the problem with it.

My problem with the movie is the very reason I or anyone else would love to sit through it again and again: the comedy. Thor Ragnarok is exceedingly comic. Taika Watiti had made it quite clear beforehand that the movie is being made a comedy, but there is no single comical device that has been left out and that’s what makes those very funny moments (a little) nauseating at times. It crams in elements of teen comedy, buddy comedy, madcap and more than often slapstick comedy. There’s bit of toilet humour too (You have no idea how literal I am being there).

Bad comic timing is a problem apparently characteristic to Marvel films, though the magnitude was significantly lower before. Ragnarok’s real plot, with its beloved characters and certain new ones, becomes a sideshow attraction, merely in place as a structure for a fundamentally comedy feature to stand upon.

Principal character descriptions have been muddled tremendously.

Loki (Tom Hiddleston)

• Loki’s suaveness has been shorn off him and in its place, we find a lowly person scrambling about to ensure a spoilt, flamboyant life for himself, amidst all manner of contempt and abuse; he’s basically turned from the God who almost destroyed NYC in the Avengers into a cosmic cockroach. 

• Wasn’t Hulk ALWAYS angry? I mean, that was THE thing that makes him what he is. If he isn’t angry, he’s not in Hulk mode anymore. But here he fights, then he has a hot bath, full VERBAL arguments, after which he cracks jokes, and if he has time left he even throws childish tantrums. He even allows Valkyrie to play with him! One is forced to ask - Banner had to hide out in Calcutta, to contain THIS guy? He’s basically turned into a gladiator cum mollycoddle. 

Hulk and Bruce Banner(Mark Ruffalo)

• Bruce Banner finds himself on an alien planet unable to produce any account of events post Sokovia, and he behaves like a child in a fanfare. Everyone in this film, including the notoriously introverted Bruce Banner is a wisecracking clown.

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        ... The scripting of the film appears to have been done by some Vine maker rather than mega-budget filmmakers ...

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The scripting of the film appears to have been done by some Vine maker rather than mega-budget filmmakers, with all lines other than those spoken by Odin culminating into some wisecrack.  Even Antman was a comedy essentially, but the plot wasn’t being carried by it’s laughs, unlike Thor: Ragnarok. Plus, Antman isn’t as essential and imperative a character as Thor, which allowed quite a decent amount of wiggle room in terms of setting the tone of the movie. Even a laugh riot like Guardians of the Galaxy had a pivotal emotional edge to it. Though Waititi ignores this idea, and though it works if one considers Ragnarok a standalone film, it does injustice to the continuity that Marvel has established with regard to the character arc and story arc for Thor, even though Ragnarok fares better in enjoyability over Thor 1 and 2, any day of the week.

Cate Blanchett as Hela

Coming to the new additions to the cast, Cate Blanchett looks stunning and makes a welcome entrance as Hela. Her intro sequence had promise for the character in terms of how intimidating she could be and the extent of her powers that eclipsed even Thor’s. That was it. For the remainder of the film, all her appearances seem to be a fleeting indication that, “Guys it’s good you’re having a laugh, but don’t forget about Hela. She’s gonna cause Ragnarok; you know, as in the name of this movie” – that’s about all the importance this film invests in her.

3 new characters steal quite a chunk of the show - Valkyrie, Korg and Grandmaster.

From L-R: Valkyrie (Thompson), Korg(Waititi) & Grandmaster (Goldblum)

If Wonder Woman became the princess of female representation, Valkyrie is nothing short of a knight. Tessa Thompson plays the part of the rugged, hard-drinking and unquestionably kickass Asgardian warrior with seemingly absolute ease, and every time she steps onto the screen, she brings an expectation of extreme action, the likes of which few female superheroes have been able to showcase. Korg is a stony gladiator who Thor befriends on Sakaar. Played by Waititi, Korg is easily the most hilarious element in the entire film. Talkative and relatively mild-voiced, he not-too-quietly owns every scene he’s present in. Jeff Goldblum pulls a Goldblum as Grandmaster, meaning he does nothing but enjoy his time as himself, and we enjoy that, thoroughly.

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                             FUN FACT: Unlike as in the comics, Waititi didn't let Grandmaster's face be painted completely blue, so that Goldblum needn't detract from his personality by concealing his appearance.

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Thor (Chris Hemsworth)

Coming to the star attraction, the belle of the ball - Chris Hemsworth! 

Hemsworth had shown us previously in Thor 1 that the character had some comic potential, which was suppressed to promote a more ‘mighty’ persona. Thor Ragnarok helps him turn the tables, and help restructure the God of thunder in a much lighter and jovial spirit. In an attempt to restructure Thor’s arc from the previous films, Waititi made a film that helps Hemsworth make Thor one of THE most likeable characters in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, competing with even Iron Man. One gets to see many radical changes – the haircut just being one among them.

Keep eyes and ears open for some really wild cameos. 

Verdict: 2 and a 1/2 ()out of 5 toots of the bugle

Everything in this film works, but it would have been deemed more appropriate had it been a film without the burden of following after 4 prequels and leading up to an impending universal war. Thor Ragnarok stands out in the MCU like that rebellious cousin of the family who is a genuine fun time but also kind of a delinquent outcast your parents tell you to stay away from.

Crush and Throw: Death Note | Review

Death Note had taken the anime world by storm when it released way back in 2003. Quickly gaining a cult following, and a massive approval rating of nearly 99% on nearly every review aggregator website, it was about time a film adaptation was made, and if its to gain international viewership, who better than America to produce it, and who better than Netflix to distribute it? And who better than a seasoned viewer to <YAWN> through the entire thing? Yeah, you get my drift.

Borrowing from the original story of the Manga/anime series, a genius high school student and recluse by the name of Light Turner finds a book titled ‘Death Note’ dropped by Ryuk, a Shinimagi (Japanese demon of death) with which one can kill anyone on the planet by just writing his name and mode of death on the book. Having misguided yet seemingly noble intentions, Light adopts the identity of Kira, and goes on a murderous spree, killing everyone and anyone he deems to be ill-fitted to exist in society, safely from the comfort of his desk. He enjoys his anonymity for some time, until an enigmatic detective ‘L’ takes up the challenge of revealing Kira’s true identity.

The original Death Note manga 

A good, just thing to do when evaluating such a movie, is to see how well it connects with a viewer being introduced to the story for the first time, and hasn’t seen the original manga, because an adaptation is rarely successful in keeping up with the standards set by the original and accordingly expected by the fanboys.  Death Note falls flat on its face, either way. Too much story has been tried to be cramped in between 1 hour and 40 minutes of runtime, and the result is a speeding train missing nearly all points of coherence. I know I said we should do otherwise, but if we talk about the original series, there is enough creative content to stretch out to at least 2 well engineered movies. The way the original manga skirted along the thin line between good and evil, moderate and extreme, eventually making us side with the conflicted murderer, is completely absent from the movie.

Nat Wolff as Light Turner

Nat Wolff, known for his performances in Paper Towns and The Fault in Our Stars plays the angsty teen, Light Turner. Where playing a good-natured, normally behaving boy seemed right up his alley, playing a self-righteous murderer doesn’t. Most of his performance is plastic, and he seems like the stereotypical weak teenager who’s angry at his father, gets beat up by bullies, and speaks at a flat single scale unless acting out, and there’s a LOT of acting out. Weird, random acting out. Rather than the genius his character was supposed to look like, he comes off more as a meticulous, socially awkward boy trying to find kicks in murder.

Ryuk, voiced by Willem Dafoe 

Willem Dafoe voices Ryuk, the Shinimagi who is the antagonist of the film and the series. A bored demon of death, he passes on his notebook to anyone and merely enjoys the show. Dafoe is probably my favourite choice for a negative character – the man’s voice has this natural creepy touch, it couldn’t work more perfectly. And he was the only redeeming factor in the character of Ryuk, a cheap CGI rendition of the original saga’s primary villain, who turns out to be more of a Sesame Street stock character, than the demon apathetic to any concerns of man and his world.

One aspect the film does fine is its cinematography and establishing the mystique around the detective ‘L’ played by Keith Stanfield, who appeared last in the Jordan Peele-directed film ‘Get Out’. He does fine. Just fine.

Verdict: 1 and a ½ / 5 toots of the bugle

You don’t need a Death Note to be able to passively kill someone. Show them this movie, and boredom will do it.

Wakefield: Bryan Cranston, the powerhouse

So this week I came across Wakefield, and naturally seeing the face of Bryan Cranston, this couldn't be put aside. Let's read on to know more.

Seriously though, Bryan Cranston. The best. Period.

The Story - Directed by Robin Swicord, the screenwriter for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, the movie revolves around Howard Wakefield, a successful lawyer in New York City living the standard family life with his wife Diana (Jennifer Garner) and two daughters, out in the suburbs. He is accustomed to his clockwork life of working, eating, sleeping and having a strained marital life, and is visibly frustrated. One day, while returning home, Howard trying to chase a raccoon away, follows it into his garage’s attic in the backyard. He discovers that he has a nearly perfect view into the affairs of his house from the attic window, and stays to see how his wife behaves in retaliation to his absence from dinner. One thing leads to the other, and Howard stays in the same attic for several months, leading his family to believe he has left them, and observes from the window how they go about their life and how much they’re affected by his absence.

The entire film, and every character portrait we come across, is from the view of the protagonist Howard Wakefield. He gives an account of the circumstances in which he met and married his wife, makes shoddy profiles of every person coming to his house post his disappearance.

The interesting thing is, despite his being the protagonist and the pivot of the story, for nearly half the movie, Wakefield comes off as a selfish, shallow, manipulative man who despite his own share of bad deeds, believes himself to be the victim of the relationships he’s bound himself in. For a movie balancing itself on the narration and point-of-view of one single character, it is remarkable how they achieve the feat.

As a viewer, we are installed next to Howard in his attic, and in a conventional cinematic setup, a viewer always empathises with the protagonist, especially in a situation like this, but this film takes a different trajectory: In the initial sequence, we see his family, seemingly curious about his absence, but equally undisturbed. In this time, we feel for Howard the breadwinner, whose life is spent providing for the very people whose lives are going on uninterrupted and uninfluenced by his absence. In the following sequence, Cranston shows us the more diverse hues of Howard’s personality, where he is deeply contemptuous towards family and peers, and has arrived to a point where he expects some sort of returns for all the things he does for them. He objectifies and trivialises his wife, accusing her of being flirtatious with other men.  Moving further, he recounts how he played his colleague to win over Diana’s hand in marriage, and it is here that Cranston inadvertently enters the final sequence of the film, where he starts realising all the faults within himself, how dependent he had been on the various luxuries in his life prior to his living like a homeless man in his own attic, and how they have affected his life and relationships with people, and prevented him from realising their true worth.

I loved this movie because of the unique way its narrative is handled, with every scene of the movie being a flashback into a memory of Howard, handpicked to suit his side of the story yet subconsciously painting a detailed picture of Howard’s personality in the process. There is a steady revelation of his person - bad, terrible, even downright despicable, but sometimes surprisingly enlightened and compassionate - with every step of his story, one that he himself isn’t aware to be affecting. None of the story as narrated by him has a particularly linear structure, and he tells it as it comes to him, ranting away as if he’s complaining directly to the viewer without even peeking into the fourth wall.

The only other significant known actor in the movie is Jennifer Garner, playing Howard's wife Diana. No specific judgment upon her, and nothing out of the usual good performance, but the character should have gone to an older actress, or at least one who'd look the same age as Cranston.

Wakefield, all in all, is a bitter-sweet (bitter mostly) drama about the mid-life crisis and the identity crisis that any family man could and must face in today’s frantic and seemingly uncaring world, and despite the dryness of its concept, brimming with significant, curious emotion, accommodated delicately with the complexities of its protagonist.

They could have done better with the epilogue, where they chose to end on an ambiguous note, but hey, is anybody perfect?

The Lost City of Z: An Ode To The Spirit Of Discovery

The subject of historical geographical exploration is one that has been depicted in cinema usually as a taste of exaggerated fanciful adventure (cue: Indiana Jones), animation (cue: Tarzan), or comedy cue:  the upcoming Jumanji 2). As a medium of information apart from plain entertainment, there was a dearth of cinema that could showcase a detailed picture of the physical and emotional journey of an explorer, wandering in uncharted, potentially dangerous regions, invested into the fact that this journey could well cost them their lives. 

Then you come across this absolutely beautiful piece of cinema – a beautiful account of a British explorer and soldier, Major Percy Fawcett, a name forgotten over time, and one of the most influential figures linked to the mythical land of El Dorado believed to be harbouring a secret civilisation much ancient and more advanced than any other known the world over. The film covers Fawcett’s journey, from his admittance into the Royal Geographical Society of England, upto his eventual disappearance in the dense jungles of the Amazon. Major Percival ‘Percy’ Fawcett is assigned to an expedition near the Brazil-Bolivian territory for mapping uncharted territory along with Corporals Henry Costin and Arthur Manley. On his first trip down, he faces threats such as extreme climatic conditions, rampant disease, invisible bloodthirsty tribesmen, and in the least, a piranha-laden Amazon River, surrounded by an unfriendly forest that cannot be relied upon for subsistence.

An unblemished vision and its raw portrayal, and an extremely well-picked ensemble come together to make this film a lush, intricate account into the darkness faced by explorers working to discover new lands to the point of obsession, and continuing on despite continuous challenges to their reputation, health, lives and sanity.

Robert Pattinson as Corporal Henry Costin,
Fawcett's aide-de-camp

Fawcett is played by Charlie Hunnam, most well known as Jax Teller in the long running Sons of Anarchy, Raleigh Becket in Guillermo del Toro’s Pacific Rim, and the title lead in Guy Ritchie’s crime-comedy-fantasy film King Arthur: Legend of The Sword. One could say Charlie Hunnam’s naturally brooding look and demeanour helps him fill Fawcett’s shoes quite well, as he captures the turbulences faced by the explorer and his aide-de-camp Costin, played by Robert Pattinson, another gem of an actor (discount the Twilight saga, and you’ll know what I mean), and how the obsession over the possibility of finding a hidden civilisation came to become the defining account of his life as the world knows it. Sienna Miller delivers a splendid heartfelt performance as Nina Fawcett, the major’s devoted wife who is nearly equally dedicated to him accomplishing his objective.

Enough said about the cast. Coming to why this film struck such a chord with me, I would point out a particular sequence in which we get to witness the near-summation of the dire straits Fawcett and his men find themselves in, halfway through the movie. On their second trip down the Amazon, they are intercepted by a familiarly aggressive group of tribesmen and forced to retreat to the opposite bank of the river. Trying to reason with the indigenous people, Fawcett bursts out into song and using a book as a shield for his face, moves forward towards them to attempt communication. Suddenly an arrow comes flying and pierces the book, missing Fawcett’s face by bare inches. The incredible build-up to the sequence pauses with a heart-stopping instant. But if I wasn’t invested enough in the story, Fawcett instead of being the stereotypical film explorer and brushing the arrow aside, momentarily phases out, and we see his life and everything he yearns to return to, literally flashing before his eyes and he tries to compose himself, all the while maintaining his stance and composure, and despite the same, proceeding to broker peace with the very same tribesmen.

Though for a short amount of time, Tom Holland appears as Jack Fawcett, Percy’s son who accompanies him on his final journey to the Amazon before their disappearance, and gives a more-than-decent performance, showcasing his serious chops, a grade above what we see in his latest Spiderman: Homecoming.

Hunnam and Holland caught between two tribal groups

In the age of larger-than-life commercial cinema, which hinges on extreme camera work, high profile names and style above substance, I feel glad that sometimes filmmakers like James Grey move out of the track to make cinema such as this – cinema that manages to evoke a hundred emotions other than plain exhilaration from intermittent one-liners, something we’ve become way too used to owing to commercial cinema. Where most films manage to establish a scenario where we view events through a window and feel a fraction of the thrills, the few like The Lost City of Z gets you holistically and deeply invested into the journey of their characters, where after a point you build an almost personal emotional connection with them.