I have no fucking idea what to make of this movie. From any of the promotional materials. From any of the trailers. I just know that Refn is an auteur I keep an eye on, even if he is infuriating me. Even if it’s making me roll my eyes. ‘Cause the dude is doing interesting stuff, or trying to, or accomplishing it, or somewhere in-betweening it.
Been a minute since we’ve talked about Rendar’s favorite auteur, Nicolas Winding Refn. The good director is plugging along on his next joint, The Neon Demon, and a slurry of casting news has slithered out of the internet-maw.
Looks like we’re getting some fucking Jean Grey up in X-Men: Apocalypse. And to that I say fucking good! If I can’t get my goddamn Jean Grey proper in the comics (or maybe I can, truthfully I’ve fucking checked out of the X-Verse), at least give me the Baddest of Them All in cinematic form.
Super 8, the latest effort from J.J. Abrams’ mystery box, is a blend of alien invasion, coming of age, and learning to let go films wrapped up in a glossy, nostalgic shell. The problem is, it never comes close to pulling off any of these narrative instruments completely. It never settles on what it wants to be and muddles through a lot of the narrative to shift to the next set piece. The alien invasion aspect is never given any high stakes that feel real. The coming of age bits are ham fisted. And the letting go element comes up empty with no real emotional depth to it. But, just like Star Trek, Super 8 looks damn good.