I wasn't so much referring to the people making it as the people who ordered it, if you catch my drift.
Discuss and Rate the Last Film You Watched
- Thread starter Th3Ch33s3Cak3
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Aquaman not being supposed (deserving) to be a joke is a bit different from him not being a joke. And I suspect anyone who says otherwise of secretly being a lobster or other aquatic creature.
Seriously, though, I don't think there's much to be done when the fandom decides you're a joke, you just have to roll with it.
Seriously, though, I don't think there's much to be done when the fandom decides you're a joke, you just have to roll with it.
Aquaman always reminds me of that Simpsons joke talking about the faded movie star Troy McClure and his unusual fetish. A mafia guy says to the don "I thought you said he was dead" and the don says "No, I said he sleeps with the fishes".
I think Aquaman being a "joke" is totally on his depiction on the Super Friends cartoon. Which is funny, because my mom claims she found Aquaman attractive in that series.
I find that Aquaman having a beard makes him 300x more respectable.
I find that Aquaman having a beard makes him 300x more respectable.
Eraserhead
Not the first time I've seen it. Or the second. Or even the third. But I did rewatch it the other day, and each time I feel like I understand it a bit better.
It's David Lynch's debut, and it's very much in line with, say, Michael Mann's Thief or Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs, a 100% pure distillation of Lynch's directorial style, there's practically not a hint of insecurity or self consciousness when it comes to the movies general feel. Eraserhead is a more fully formed artistic vision than most directors manage to convey their entire career, much less the very start of it. It's plot is more easily described than understood. Jack Nance plays Henry Spencer, a dweeby young man with an eccentric pompadour living in a distorted version of industrial urban America. He's invited to have dinner with his, implicitly somewhat estranged, girlfriend and her family. They reveal to him that she had what may or may not be a baby. They end up taking care of it, a slimy, vaguely reptilian looking creature that couldn't possibly be mistaken for human. Dark and troubling things happen.
Watching Eraserhead raises many questions, the most pressing one probably being "What the hell am I watching?". Eraserheads expressionist take on urban America, inspired by the slums of Philadelphia that Lynch used to live in, is a place that feels much stranger than even most of the worlds imagined by Science-Fiction or Fantasy. It's a godforsaken wasteland, a place of pure corruption where what little life does manage to exist does so in a state of constant physical and mental illness. It's a place close to hell, and yet it's not completely foreign. As much as Henry, Mary, her family, the baby and the world they live in may feel like a demented dreamscape somewhere between H.R. Giger and Hieronymous Bosch, Lynch doesn't let us completely detach them from reality. Henry is a beautifully acted depiction of the alienated everyman. His character is impressive, not for how deep it is, but for how broad it is. Timid, awkward, soft spoken, wearing ill fitting clothes, a silly haircut and the expression of someone who is in a state of constant existencial despair, but has also completely given up on ever being able to overcome it. From a modern perspective, one might choose to read mild autism into his awkward mannerisms and passive demeanour, but there is a universality to this character that transcends all overly specific interpretations of him. Henry is a dweeb. A nebbish. A sad clown playing both straight man and victim to the jokes of a very cruel universe.
There is a well documented element of humor to Eraserhead. Parts of it satirize the iconography and writing of corny 50s family sitcoms (The entire "dinner with the parents" sequence feeling like Luis Bunuel directing an episode of Father Knows Best), there is something unhinged to practically the entire supporting cast and quite frequently the movie calls back to silent film comedy, Eraserhead's sense of humor is the best kind, the kind that comes from a place of genuine despair.
It's a short movie, just under 90 minutes, but one where every single scene could be discussed for hours. There's a Christian angle to it (the wife is named "Mary X" and the baby seems to have been not so much conceived as inflicted upon her and Henry by a scarred god), there's allusions to American family values, the loss of humanity in industrialized society, both literal and spiritual pollution, poverty and its effects... what Eraserhead depicts is either a deeply sick world or a world as seen and felt by a deeply sick mind and either way, as awful as it's be to have to live in it, it sure makes for an interesting place to visit.
Lynch went on to make a lot of things after this, most of them with a greater focus on narrative than Eraserhead, where feeling and theme are far more important than its rather minimalist plot. But it may still present the most distilled version of Lynch's visual and thematic passions. An oily, smokey, electrical, polluted universe of decay and corruption, an urban, working class hell, an American otherworld that, in his own words, exists, but it's not possible to go there. It gets in the headspace of the alienated worker, the reluctant father, the depressed outsider to whom the world around feels alien and oppressive. And what it brings back from there is not pretty, not conventionally, anyway, but you can't look away from it.
Not the first time I've seen it. Or the second. Or even the third. But I did rewatch it the other day, and each time I feel like I understand it a bit better.
It's David Lynch's debut, and it's very much in line with, say, Michael Mann's Thief or Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs, a 100% pure distillation of Lynch's directorial style, there's practically not a hint of insecurity or self consciousness when it comes to the movies general feel. Eraserhead is a more fully formed artistic vision than most directors manage to convey their entire career, much less the very start of it. It's plot is more easily described than understood. Jack Nance plays Henry Spencer, a dweeby young man with an eccentric pompadour living in a distorted version of industrial urban America. He's invited to have dinner with his, implicitly somewhat estranged, girlfriend and her family. They reveal to him that she had what may or may not be a baby. They end up taking care of it, a slimy, vaguely reptilian looking creature that couldn't possibly be mistaken for human. Dark and troubling things happen.
Watching Eraserhead raises many questions, the most pressing one probably being "What the hell am I watching?". Eraserheads expressionist take on urban America, inspired by the slums of Philadelphia that Lynch used to live in, is a place that feels much stranger than even most of the worlds imagined by Science-Fiction or Fantasy. It's a godforsaken wasteland, a place of pure corruption where what little life does manage to exist does so in a state of constant physical and mental illness. It's a place close to hell, and yet it's not completely foreign. As much as Henry, Mary, her family, the baby and the world they live in may feel like a demented dreamscape somewhere between H.R. Giger and Hieronymous Bosch, Lynch doesn't let us completely detach them from reality. Henry is a beautifully acted depiction of the alienated everyman. His character is impressive, not for how deep it is, but for how broad it is. Timid, awkward, soft spoken, wearing ill fitting clothes, a silly haircut and the expression of someone who is in a state of constant existencial despair, but has also completely given up on ever being able to overcome it. From a modern perspective, one might choose to read mild autism into his awkward mannerisms and passive demeanour, but there is a universality to this character that transcends all overly specific interpretations of him. Henry is a dweeb. A nebbish. A sad clown playing both straight man and victim to the jokes of a very cruel universe.
There is a well documented element of humor to Eraserhead. Parts of it satirize the iconography and writing of corny 50s family sitcoms (The entire "dinner with the parents" sequence feeling like Luis Bunuel directing an episode of Father Knows Best), there is something unhinged to practically the entire supporting cast and quite frequently the movie calls back to silent film comedy, Eraserhead's sense of humor is the best kind, the kind that comes from a place of genuine despair.
It's a short movie, just under 90 minutes, but one where every single scene could be discussed for hours. There's a Christian angle to it (the wife is named "Mary X" and the baby seems to have been not so much conceived as inflicted upon her and Henry by a scarred god), there's allusions to American family values, the loss of humanity in industrialized society, both literal and spiritual pollution, poverty and its effects... what Eraserhead depicts is either a deeply sick world or a world as seen and felt by a deeply sick mind and either way, as awful as it's be to have to live in it, it sure makes for an interesting place to visit.
Lynch went on to make a lot of things after this, most of them with a greater focus on narrative than Eraserhead, where feeling and theme are far more important than its rather minimalist plot. But it may still present the most distilled version of Lynch's visual and thematic passions. An oily, smokey, electrical, polluted universe of decay and corruption, an urban, working class hell, an American otherworld that, in his own words, exists, but it's not possible to go there. It gets in the headspace of the alienated worker, the reluctant father, the depressed outsider to whom the world around feels alien and oppressive. And what it brings back from there is not pretty, not conventionally, anyway, but you can't look away from it.
He's basically fucking Poseidon for all practical purposes. Hell most of the DC roster are reskins of ancient gods, even though those gods often actually run around in that canon too. And I've never seen anyone call Poseidon a joke. That's the big issue I have. The fact that a really REALLY dumb cartoon, that so was campy that EVERYONE was equally fucking dumb, also portrayed him as dumb, yet somehow THAT is the way people remember him, is just really bizarre to me. They seem perfectly happy with ignoring the horrible version of everyone else from that cartoon, but Aquaman somehow doesn't get a pass.
Bear in mind, I don't actually really care about DC at all. But after 30 freaking years of hearing people mock a character, who has powers identical to others they say are awesome, AND a list of other abilities that are actually impressive as shit, but all they can say is "lulz, he talks to fish." It's just really annoying. It's like that guy you know, who only knows one joke, but keeps using it for decades.
I never got that either. Luckily, most people around me during my teenage years did not care much for Aquaman, DC, or superheroes in general, so I avoided the whole Aquaman sucks cuz fish "argument" for most of my kid-teen life. People stop making fun of him when he cameoed in Superman: The Animated Series and the Justice League/JL Unlimited. Almost no one disrespects him now with the recent film.
He's kind of a B-list superhero, though, isn't he? That's the real problem. There aren't enough people who know about, love and respect him, which is why so many remember him from a dumb, campy cartoon rather than the serious version from the comics. And whilst he might have super strength, toughness etc. he really is mostly famous for talking to fish.
But is that all he does with fish? Nudge nudge wink wink.
No-one summons mighty Cthulhu. They temporarily rouse him from slumber to devour the world.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
I heard he became a joke during Super Friends because he would always be looking for Superman to save him. Dunno if that is true.
I thought the whale scene of the Deep in the Boys was potentially damn impressive.
We get glimpses of the bad ass he could be in things like Injustice...
And Flashpoint
I recall a pretty good "Smallville" version of him
Can't find the picture of him throwing a concentrated ball of water. As I recall, that was kind of cool.
Mortal Kombat - 6.5/10
A pretty decent to good movie. The movie is pretty self-aware even doing a bit about the leg sweep that was pretty funny. Kano is the most entertaining character by far. The movie's biggest downfall is the protagonist. Firstly, he's a new made up character... Why!?!?!? Just make one of the MK characters the protagonist, you have plenty to choose from. Secondly, he's a bog-standard lame audience surrogate character.
A pretty decent to good movie. The movie is pretty self-aware even doing a bit about the leg sweep that was pretty funny. Kano is the most entertaining character by far. The movie's biggest downfall is the protagonist. Firstly, he's a new made up character... Why!?!?!? Just make one of the MK characters the protagonist, you have plenty to choose from. Secondly, he's a bog-standard lame audience surrogate character.
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Mortal Kombat (2021)
I'll keep it brief. The 1995 movie, and all it's Enter the Dragon meets Big Trouble in Little China 90's cheese and hokey sfx, is a better movie. Certainly a more fun one.
I'll keep it brief. The 1995 movie, and all it's Enter the Dragon meets Big Trouble in Little China 90's cheese and hokey sfx, is a better movie. Certainly a more fun one.
Peter Pan (6/10)
This is the 1950s Disney film, in case you're wondering. And it...
Well, can't say I'm that fond of it. I read the original Peter Pan novel awhile ago, and while I'm not overly fond of it, I did appreciate it for its darker subtext/themes. These are themes that are largely absent from the Disney film. Not entirely absent, and with 'analysis mode' on, to borrow a phrase, I did see if there was anything that I could kind of dive into thematically. Alas, that wasn't the case. Peter Pan takes the framework of Barrie's story, and, well, Disneyfies it. Which is to be expected, I guess, but still...
Actually, that's not entirely fair. There's some stuff here, but rather, I'm just going to go through this point by point. So on that note:
-"All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again." Holy bum nuggets, this beat Battlestar Galactica to that line by half a century. 0_0
-How does Wendy already know who Peter Pan is before Peter even shows up? It's implied by the opening and closing lines that Peter does this rigamarole with children constantly, likely including Wendy's own father, but still...
-Something I'll give the film credit for, in keeping to the themes of the book, is that there's a recurring motif of actions without consequences, as in, being a child, you don't consider them. Tinkerbell orders the Lost Boys to shoot Wendy, and Peter only cares enough to 'banish' her for a week. Similarly, the mermaids try to drown Wendy, and Peter's "nah, you're good." While it's not part of this motif, Hook casually shoots a member of his own crew (I kind of had to blink, wondering how that was allowed in a children's film, even if the actual shot takes place off-screen), but, well...
-Speaking of the pirates, I know none of this is meant to make sense, but through fairly awkward exposition (we're a few steps away from "as you know,"), it's established that they sailed into Never Land, and Hook's keeping them there because he wants to kill Peter. So, um, do these pirates come from the real world? Smee makes reference to sailing the Spanish main, so are they from are world, and if so, how long have they been here? Clearly time seems to pass slower in Never Land than the real world (the entire film corresponds to about 3 hours in the real world, but they spend much longer in Never Land and oh Christ, I'm trying to analyze Peter Pan's in-universe consistency.
-On the subject of the Indians (or "Injuns"). I'm not going to tell you if the portrayal is racist or not - on one hand, I kind of raised an eyebrow when John says "let's go hunt some Injuns" (yay, genocide!), but on the other, I can't deny that 'What Makes the Red Man Red' is a catchy song. Also, poor Tiger Lily doesn't get a single line in the film.
Actually, again, the whole 'hunting Injuns' thing does potentially tie into the theme of childhood innocence/lack of consequences, in that it's established that the Lost Boys and Indians kind of hunt each other, tie the other up, and begin the game again (similarly, the boys are unfazed by being taken captive by pirates, or walking the plank), but I'm kind of wondering if it's giving the film too much credit. Basically, is it whimsy that's meant to establish a theme, or is it whimsy in the knowledge that children will view this on surface level?
-There's more I could say, but it would either be questioning the logic of the film (which defeats the purpose), or on the question of theme. Basically, I'm left in this limbo where I'm not sure how much credit I can give the writers when it comes to their portrayal of events. As far as adaptations go, it's certainly truer than Pan (which is a film I actually quite like, flawed as it is), but it's got a kind of 'plausible deniability' thing going on. I'm sure children will enjoy it, but it's basically Peter Pan-lite, when compared to the original story.
This is the 1950s Disney film, in case you're wondering. And it...
Well, can't say I'm that fond of it. I read the original Peter Pan novel awhile ago, and while I'm not overly fond of it, I did appreciate it for its darker subtext/themes. These are themes that are largely absent from the Disney film. Not entirely absent, and with 'analysis mode' on, to borrow a phrase, I did see if there was anything that I could kind of dive into thematically. Alas, that wasn't the case. Peter Pan takes the framework of Barrie's story, and, well, Disneyfies it. Which is to be expected, I guess, but still...
Actually, that's not entirely fair. There's some stuff here, but rather, I'm just going to go through this point by point. So on that note:
-"All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again." Holy bum nuggets, this beat Battlestar Galactica to that line by half a century. 0_0
-How does Wendy already know who Peter Pan is before Peter even shows up? It's implied by the opening and closing lines that Peter does this rigamarole with children constantly, likely including Wendy's own father, but still...
-Something I'll give the film credit for, in keeping to the themes of the book, is that there's a recurring motif of actions without consequences, as in, being a child, you don't consider them. Tinkerbell orders the Lost Boys to shoot Wendy, and Peter only cares enough to 'banish' her for a week. Similarly, the mermaids try to drown Wendy, and Peter's "nah, you're good." While it's not part of this motif, Hook casually shoots a member of his own crew (I kind of had to blink, wondering how that was allowed in a children's film, even if the actual shot takes place off-screen), but, well...
-Speaking of the pirates, I know none of this is meant to make sense, but through fairly awkward exposition (we're a few steps away from "as you know,"), it's established that they sailed into Never Land, and Hook's keeping them there because he wants to kill Peter. So, um, do these pirates come from the real world? Smee makes reference to sailing the Spanish main, so are they from are world, and if so, how long have they been here? Clearly time seems to pass slower in Never Land than the real world (the entire film corresponds to about 3 hours in the real world, but they spend much longer in Never Land and oh Christ, I'm trying to analyze Peter Pan's in-universe consistency.
-On the subject of the Indians (or "Injuns"). I'm not going to tell you if the portrayal is racist or not - on one hand, I kind of raised an eyebrow when John says "let's go hunt some Injuns" (yay, genocide!), but on the other, I can't deny that 'What Makes the Red Man Red' is a catchy song. Also, poor Tiger Lily doesn't get a single line in the film.
Actually, again, the whole 'hunting Injuns' thing does potentially tie into the theme of childhood innocence/lack of consequences, in that it's established that the Lost Boys and Indians kind of hunt each other, tie the other up, and begin the game again (similarly, the boys are unfazed by being taken captive by pirates, or walking the plank), but I'm kind of wondering if it's giving the film too much credit. Basically, is it whimsy that's meant to establish a theme, or is it whimsy in the knowledge that children will view this on surface level?
-There's more I could say, but it would either be questioning the logic of the film (which defeats the purpose), or on the question of theme. Basically, I'm left in this limbo where I'm not sure how much credit I can give the writers when it comes to their portrayal of events. As far as adaptations go, it's certainly truer than Pan (which is a film I actually quite like, flawed as it is), but it's got a kind of 'plausible deniability' thing going on. I'm sure children will enjoy it, but it's basically Peter Pan-lite, when compared to the original story.
I have no clue what level of knowledge the average idiot in the world has about classical greek mythology, and the modern day re-imaginings of them in pop culture. Half the US think trump won and that jew controlled space lasers are a real thing, along with a metric ton of other idiotic things, so I don't assume they ever bothered to learn about the greek gods. Given how many of them consider anything not christian to be of satan, the probably don't. But, that's offset by shit like disney films, so who fucking knows.
My point is that nobody mocks Poseidon and declares he just talks to fish. But Aquaman is very clearly just modern day Posiedon, for all intents and porpoises. And yet people think "oh yeah, dude controls the 7 seas, master of the beasts of the oceans, and controls water...he's a total badass." but that is exactly what Aquaman does too, since he IS Posiedon, and yet he's a joke for 40 years. It's just seems to be a case of cognitive dissonance on their part, to refuse to see anything other than a single depiction of him, from a shitty cartoon, that equally made everyone else look stupid and idiotic, but when new writers gave the other characters a serious tone, people are like "ok yeah, that's legit, Lex Luthor is a smooth criminal" and totally seem to ignore the purple wearing, frilly collared nincompoop from the very same cartoon that they cite to mock Aquaman.
I recall liking it. Guess I'll have to watch again. This 2003 version too as I recall liking it as well:
No, the disinterested and the ignorant think of him of as a joke because of Superfriends. Most of the comic readers I’ve met acknowledge his capacity as both a fighter and a king, even if they don’t like the character. Anecdotal I admit but there you go.