#might eff around and write a screenplay

[misas-biggest-fan]

some detailed thoughts on an LABB movie w a ‘read more’ bc i have A Lot To Say

i want it to be a movie bc i love movies

im also open to the concept of a mini series but a full tv show might be a challenging stretch

animated or live action would both be incredible and both have their unique pros and cons

the whole thing is DISTINCTLY LA

busy streets and palm trees and the Hollywood sign and the shiny, overly false glamour of everything

would really contrast well with Rue Ryuzaki’s disturbing fake-ness

like he’s just as fake as the whole city, that both he and Hollywood have on this costume to hide tragedy and hideous deeds

i want it to have the glitz and glam and extravagance of the recent gatsby movie (which i adore, dont come for me)

if bahz luhrmann doesn’t direct i will RIOT id die for bahz luhrmann he’s Good and he has the same energy and chaotic attitude of beyond birthday himself

i want beyond to have a scene like the one where Nick realizes who Gatsby is and Gatsby turns around with the champagne flute and the fireworks go off in slow motion as he smiles that’s my favorite shot in all of cinematic history no joke

it’s HIGHLY STYLIZED. i want bright colors and weird aesthetic choices

I also want some shockingly beautiful frames of LA and surprisingly sophisicated shots of Beyonds face lit up in different neon colors or something

Indie enough to be weird and fun but pop enough to be easily digestible

it opens with mello writing his book (like moulin rouge!! a;lsdjfk)

his burn scars are just healing and he knows he’ll die soon so he has to write down all his important memories, leave something behind

he wants to write down something important to him, something that he can leave for Near, something that might put his own life and actions into context

something that might help other people understand who he was more

so of course, he thinks of beyond

who he respects and admires and pities

who has such a similar and yet different story from Mello’s own

so maybe in understanding beyond and understanding how mello feels about beyond

people will understand mello

near will understand mello

so mello gets to work detailing this story his incredible mentor L once told him, describing this beautiful memory he has of meeting with and talking to L and how L told him about Beyond

(in this scene, you don’t SEE L. you just get an idea of what he looks like, flashes and shots, so that the audience can know L well enough to still wonder about the identity Rue Ryuzaki throughout the movie)

and then of course, we dive into the story

Beyond is OVER THE TOP. he’s more than unsettling, he’s downright terrifying. but he’s still somehow intriguing and even charming at times, like he can turn the smoulder on and off at will. 

Hes a disaster nb, a fabulous hodgepodge of discarded gender roles and impressive makeup skills

Him practicing his evil laugh and trying so desperately to be this comic villain didjdjdje hes such a loser i love him that scene NEEDS to make an appearance

he and naomi’s chemistry is incredible to watch on screen because beyond dominates any scene he’s in unless naomi is there to challenge him because her acting is also so powerful that when they’re on screen together, it’s like you can’t tear your eyes away from this insane car wreck that is their relationship

and NAOMI

a;lksdfj;dlkfj naomi misora <3 <3 <3 <3 ok im ready

so naomi is also a powerful presence on screen, even though she’s not crawling on the ground or eating with her hands or you know whatever ridiculous garbage beyond is doing

more time is spent on her

her disastrous relationship with raye

her feelings over her suspension from the FBI

and really play up the whole jessica jones thing she’s got going on

i want black leather for DAYS

I want “gritty LA detective who’s on suspension from the FBI because she doesn’t play by the rules” or whatever except it’s a twist because not only is she not a man, like this trope usually calls for, but it turns out she was suspended because of her tenderness and humanity instead of her brutality

she still needs to have MULTIPLE fight scenes, a few with beyond and maybe even a few with other attackers, who she absolutely mops the floor with

but then she and beyond have a scene where they fight against someone together

he’s not a good fighter. she mostly has to save his butt every time but he’s just happy to be there and probably keeps saying stuff like ‘wow misora you’re amazing!’ and she’s like ‘?!?! ryuzaki you loser?1?! run?!?’

and of course, there’s enough twists and changes from the book to keep everyone on their toes, but GOOD changes

like maybe we go back to mello a few times and he has more of his own subplot where his relationship to near is revealed more fully, that he wants near to understand him and he wants to reach out to near emotionally in this way

contrast mello’s story with beyond’s so when we learn beyond’s full story at the end, he and mello are revealed to be foils of each other

we get shots of wammy’s house and we see a and beyond interact and we see beyond’s life-destroying grief over a’s death

we get contrasting shots of wammy’s with mello and near and we’re allowed to hope that maybe they can be happier

A and beyond become something of a subplot leading up to as death but you dont entirely realize who beyond is until the big reveal at the end

maybe beyond does some more unsettling things that are just as creepy and in-character but are a terrible surprise for those who’ve already read the book!! i can’t imagine what other horrific thing he could do to scare naomi, but there’s got to be something

i’m rly into bday massacre bc i love naomi and beyond’s rly twisted relationship so i’d love to see more of him being in awe of her, more of them connecting, more of beyond opening up to her even. maybe she tells him a little bit about her suspension. just a little.

also if we could like clean up some of the plot holes in this joint pls and thank you

id even be ok if it’s insinuated that he self-sabotaged a little, on a conscious level or not, bc i feel like that wouldn’t be tooooooo ooc i mean, he’s a hot mess. most of this is just a really twisted cry for help anyway, at least in my interpretation. he wants people to realize he’s suffering. he just… can’t do it in a normal or healthy way :/

beyond pls a;lkdfj

Anyway. Theres also a boppin soundtrack

Fire is a big motif. Maybe make a connection between wildfires in CA and beyond using this case to self-destruct

A little more closure at the end. Thats part of the drive behind my bday massacre fanfic rn is that i feel like he and naomi never got any real closure on the traumatizing, like, week or two they spent together

I also want more closure on naomi as a character arc. I want her to dump rayes sorry butt and i want her to have had some sort of real internal change. None of this “she picks up her life where she left off and never thinks abt beyond again”

Of course, L is revealed and has his glorious little spill down the concrete subway stairs. Its What He Deserves :)

And of course we have to make the obvious contrast between both beyond and mello having survived serious burn injuries its just another thing that makes them such interestingly comparable characters

If Naomi visits Beyond in prison to say goodbye, i wouldnt be opposed. If they made my fanfiction into a movie i wouldnt be opposed

Mello prints out his book in the mafia hideout, his arms folded and waiting as paper after paper comes out, just begging any of these mafia dudes to mock him for liking to write. None of them do. Its a funny moment tho

He debates sending it to near, feeling so awkward and prideful, but he finally does it, leaving instructions for it to reach near after his death.

In the end, naomi and beyond are revealed to be dead at the same time as near receives the package from his dear mello

Naomi and beyond were doomed, and so were beyond and a, but now… near has mellos last love letter to him, cryptically begging him to try to understand. And so theres hope that although the rest of these relationships were doomed, maybe near can still have one piece of mello and be happy

[ahouseoflies]

The Best Films of 2016, Part I

Rodrigo Perez of The Playlist posted his best-of list on January 15 and spent the introduction whipping himself for it being too late to be relevant. That was over two weeks ago, and here I am. But who can feel caught up if an actual critic doesn’t? Even now, at a point when I have to turn the page, I haven’t seen Toni Erdmann, Paterson, Things to Come, or Jack Reacher: Never Go Back. Aside from pretending that my thoughts on movies are worth something to other people, I’m just a regular guy living in a film market that is not L.A. or New York, and the system for movie release schedules is broken for all of us. Most of the year is trash if we can’t go to festivals. Then we hear about interesting stuff from the critics’ top ten lists that bubble up in early December. Because the press machine follows an old model, interviews and commercials and dates on posters are timed to promote a film while it is technically on about six screens. In the case of, say, 20th Century Women, it opens in my area on January 20th. By that time it has already been judged a failure because it had to share the airspace with dozens of other pictures released in a one-month window. And Hollywood wonders why a) they lose $75 million on Live by Night or b) regular people pirate the product. Forgive those hicks for wanting to see the thing you’re selling. This pattern repeats every year, and no one learns anything because exactly two movies end up being financial successes. I hate movies. Because I hate movies, I watched 124 of them in 2016, which is a 3% decline from my viewing last year. (In consolation, my balance between classic films and contemporary ones was better.) As usual, I have ranked all 124 and divided them into the tiers of Garbage, Admirable Failures, Endearing Curiosities with Big Flaws, Pretty Good Movies, Good Movies, Great Movies, and Instant Classics. As Isabelle Huppert probably said in Things to Come, “Allons-y!” GARBAGE 124. The Bronze (Bryan Buckley) I'm reading an hour and forty minutes as the running time on imdb, but I could have sworn this laborious movie was at least five hours. The main problem here, besides profanity being a joke in and of itself, is that the film is never sure how much empathy it has toward its characters. It judges them for cheap laughs, then turns right back around and tries to wring emotion by taking them seriously. Juggling both of those modes isn't impossible, but The Bronze proves how difficult it is. I rented this on a weekend when my baby had diarrhea, which really took the viewing experience up a notch. 123. Equals (Drake Doremus) What a snoozefest of a perfume ad this is. I liked Doremus's Like Crazy a lot, but I found little nuance or invention in his world-building here, for a setting that needed something new to separate it from the emotionless dystopias we've seen before. Kristen Stewart is at watch-everything-she's-in status for me, but even her whispery performance is paint-by-numbers.

122. Dirty Grandpa (Dan Mazer) I'm mostly angry with myself because I thought I had gotten trash like this out of my system. You can learn a lot from bad movies, but I learned all I could by seeing whatever two movies were playing every Friday of high school. I had been making such better choices. I hope, at the very least, that one of Robert De Niro's failing TriBeCa restaurants was able to hire additional bartenders as a result of this. The experience is a bit like spending time with a child who has just learned how to use the F-word, but also if that child had a deeply-ingrained sense of misogyny? God bless Jason Mantzoukas for at least trying in all of these red-band write-offs. By the way, same diarrhea weekend. 121. Sausage Party (Conrad Vernon, Greg Tiernen) Up until now, the Rogen-Goldberg aesthetic has been "genre/premise...but it's filthy." Sausage Party, more of a brand management lark than anything else, seems to stretch the high concept side and the filthy side until the whole thing breaks. The atheism allegory stalls halfway through. (So there is a God, but that God is evil? Is death being expired or is death being taken home? How can the device be so heavy-handed and so muddy at the same time?) The villain (a literal douche) is adequately motivated, but the screenplay drops him for a huge stretch of time. In the end, I needed more than hot dogs cursing. I wouldn't recommend this movie, but I would recommend the three following things in it: 1. Tha god Edward Norton as Sammy Bagel Jr. 2. The epilogue is clever! Where was that kind of thinking the whole time? 3. The one joke that I liked, then felt dumb for liking: A lavash lamenting that he won't get thirty-seven extra virgin olive oils. 120. The BFG (Steven Spielberg) If you drink every time you hear "Bee-Eff-GeeeeEEEE," then you'll die. And you might be better off than a person asking "who cares?" to the ether for almost two hours.Now that his style is so solidified, a brand of its own even thirty years ago, Spielberg has trouble merging his voice with anyone else's. You could argue that he did it with The Color Purple or Empire of the Sun, but Minority Report feels nothing like a Philip K. Dick work by the end as Anderton rubs the pregnant belly of the wife he's back together with. In Jurassic Park he casts a literal cartoon to yada-yada the science that Michael Crichton was fascinated with. And here he tries to wrap himself around Roald Dahl, a man who was simultaneously way sillier and way more cynical than Spielberg. Here's something that happens about a dozen times: The BFG doesn't speak English well, despite hearing all the whispers of the world and being alive since the beginning of time. So Dahl creates malapropisms and nonsense words for him. He calls someone "a human bean," and the girl corrects him  with "Bee-Eff-GeeeEEEE, it's human BEING." And that's the film in a nutshell: Someone toying with the wacky only to yoke himself back to this boring world. 119. Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising (Nicholas Stoller) Compared to the first movie--not a masterpiece by any stretch--this one has no stakes at all. It's always a bad sign when characters have to keep repeating what their short-term goals are as the film goes on. If (when) you look really closely at Efron's abs, you can almost make out the "lol nothing matters" gif. 118. Wiener Dog (Todd Solondz) Todd Solondz hasn't made a good movie since the first half of Storytelling, and he hasn't made a financially successful movie ever. Yet here he is in 2016, getting more chances to spray the same pointless contempt. All of his movies are mean, but they're also weirdly toothless. My mistake that I thought the people who deserved scorn were venal billionaires and hypocritical authority figures. It's actually slightly materialistic middle-class people and college kids who need to be taken down a peg. Go get 'em, Todd! Danny DeVito comes close to saving his misshapen segment, injecting pathos into a character who is a self-loathing mouthpiece for Solondz. Fewer people fit the bill of "sad-sack" more than DeVito, and he wears his character's anxiety on his slumped shoulders. I had almost forgotten about this observant, reserved side of DeVito, and he takes over until the film shuffles along to another half-scene--you know, before we, God forbid, get attached to someone.There's a reason that Solondz's best scenes take place in schools, and there's a reason why he keeps returning to his younger stand-in Dawn Weiner, his only character that rises above a type. It's because Todd Solondz is still the weird kid in the back of the classroom giggling to himself. Then, when the teacher asks what he's laughing at, he looks down and says, "Nothing."

117. The Neon Demon (Nicolas Winding Refn) Bukowski wrote: "An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way." Of course, he didn't live to see any of Nicolas Winding Refn's movies, which challenge that notion. It's hard for me to reject something crafted so meticulously--I won't be able to unsee some of these shots--but I suspect that Refn dresses these things up so luridly because he isn't saying much. (Shout-out to your best movie being the only one you didn't write.) And he falls back on provocation because he doesn't have as much confidence in us as he has in himself. That's reductive I guess. "There's no difference between text and subtext" might be closer than "not saying much." Take the bathroom scene, for example, where the labored rhythm of the dialogue really takes hold. The Jena Malone character says that lipsticks have names that conjure images of food or sex, and she asks the Elle Fanning character what her lipstick name would be. In other words, "Are you food, something devoured by others, or sex, something you are active in for your own pleasure?" Luckily, the character doesn't answer her, but the movie spends another hour and a half clinging to the line between predator and prey. (Unless it's literally placing a predator into the character's motel room to force the issue, a moment as magical as it is didactic.) Beauty is something as pure as it is ephemeral. So if beauty becomes a currency, and one is forced to use her beauty as a transaction, can it ever really survive? Is its innocence lost then? Alternately, if a truly beautiful thing enters a realm of ugliness, doesn't it become a poisoning element that corrupts that environment? Isn't beauty, in that sense.../puffs joint/...ugliness? I think I'm pretty close, but you be the judge. The Neon Demon reminded me of Under the Skin, another film I did not like, because they both spell out obvious ideas, thinking that the genuinely artful visuals will complicate that text. (And the camera loves Elle Fanning as much as it does Scarlett Johansson. None of this is her fault.) Both films could probably be played at double-speed without missing much, but then they wouldn't be fables or dreams or other things I don't like. I feel as if I get what both of them are saying but...so? Both films suggest something blinding and poetic on the margins just beyond our view, but there's nothing there. Their beauty is empty. 116. Mascots (Christopher Guest) "Hi, I'm Laci." "What's your name?" "Laci." That's the time I laughed. I could have used maybe ten fewer characters--though please keep Parker Posey and her heretofore unseen physical comedy. Eerily reminiscent of the Netflix season of Arrested Development in which none of the stars were in the same room at the same time. Do I have to go back now and make sure those other Christopher Guest movies are actually good? 115. Zoolander 2 (Ben Stiller) The first Zoolander was silly fun, and I didn't expect much more from the follow-up. But man, Zoolander 2, separated by fifteen years from its predecessor, feels stale. And it isn't tonally desperate in the way that many of these belated follow-ups are; it's just an idea that culture has zipped past, more of a satire of the fashion world of the first film than anything relevant now. I laughed a scattered handful of times, but the final third is rough. My biggest takeaway: Will Ferrell must be a loyal friend to have signed back up. ADMIRABLE FAILURES 114. Tale of Tales (Matteo Garrone) I appreciate Garrone's visual ambition: There's a shot that is manicured to look exactly like John William Waterhouse's Lady of Shalott. No two films of his look the same either. But I paused this movie to go to the bathroom, and I got really upset when I saw that there were forty-five minutes left. Most of the stories of this fractured fairy tale collection start off interestingly enough, but they all become bloody, sometimes unresolved messes that assert, well, I have no idea what I was supposed to take away actually. Violence makes the world go round? 113. Swiss Army Man (Daniels) Most reviews of Swiss Army Man start with the "what"--desperate castaway finds flatulent dead body and pals around with him--and move on to the "how"--it's actually about friendship and living life to the fullest and so forth. I'm going to flip that. I'll buy the "why," the semi-animated corpse as a device. I appreciated that it served to highlight a type of person we don't normally see on screen: sort of educated but rides the bus, social problems but resists being emo, family problems but has worked through them enough. No, the "what" is the problem. It was clear where the line between fantasy and reality was, but the filmmakers were inconsistent with that logic once the action moved into the real world. I feel as if I gave the movie the benefit of the doubt for its entire tedious second act, then it repaid me with, well, not much. 112. Elvis & Nixon (Liza Johnson) Team Shannon 4-Ever, but I think this worked better as a photograph. 111. Ghostbusters (Paul Feig) I would say that Ghostbusters was a mess, but the word "mess" implies risk-taking that went wrong. A much rarer breed, this remake is actually a safe mess. It hews closely to the original, slavishly incorporating cameos from the original cast and hitting all of the same beats. But it's also uniquely incoherent. For example, when the ghosts are released into Times Square, the lady busters can't shoot at the car Slimer is driving because "it would be like a nuclear reactor." So that problem disappears, and now the problem is that the ghosts have taken the form of a Thanksgiving Day parade? But our heroes extinguish that threat, so now everyone is possessed by the garbage villain into disco dancing? And now the ghosts are all huge again? By trying to up the stakes, the film can't even decide on what the obstacle for the characters should be. That sort of muddiness would be understandable if the film felt edited to shreds, but I watched the two hour and fourteen minute extended cut, and it still felt like that. Most of the cast is game, but Kate McKinnon is the standout, injecting weirdness (and, separately, queerness) wherever she can. It seems as if Holtzmann is the only member of the team who actually sciences, and McKinnon's mugging is just as indispensable to the team. The few shots that the film takes at protective nerds are funny, so I wish that the script had more of that bitterness. Or any tone of its own at all.

110. A Hologram for the King (Tom Tykwer) Spoiler: Tom Hanks gets wi-fi for his team. There isn't much "there" there in yet another low stakes tale of a White guy lolwutting a foreign culture. To be fair, Tykwer doesn't other the Saudis as much as most films of this type, but even with that respect, this feels like a movie we've seen before. Without Tykwer's surreal touches and without an actor that has built up so much goodwill, the film wouldn't have worked at all. 109. Amanda Knox (Brian McGinn, Rod Blackhurst) The recent true crime works that prompted Netflix to snatch up this one have been objective and gripping, reaching past their tawdry roots to reveal something about our own prurient interest in the subjects. Amanda Knox, on the other hand, can't get past tawdry. It exhibits just as much sensationalism as it decries in others. It is nice to hear Foxy Knoxy in her own words for once though. (For the record, I would have had enough reasonable doubt to acquit her.) 108. Jason Bourne (Paul Greengrass) Even the title makes it seem as if there's no reason for this movie to exist, so the least I can do is provide alternate titles: 1. The Bourne Pickpocket 2. Bourne: Folder Labeled "Black Ops" 3. Bourne: Last of the Jump Drives 4. The Bourne Cable-Knit Sweater 5. The Bourne Daddy (That one is accurate and true to the The Bourne ____ structure, plus you get a millenial hashtag.) I think Greengrass knew what he had with that trill car chase at the end, so everything else could be rote. Jason Bourne felt like returning to the house you grew up in and going, "Oh, they turned my bedroom into an office."  107. Money Monster (Jodie Foster) Dumb in small ways--a billionaire didn't hear about a national news story involving his company because he was on a plane?--and fairly big ways--dropping threads left and right and failing to give resolution to one of its main characters. Films involving finance are often too complex, but Money Monster isn't complex enough; it's missing a B story. If you think about the best possible version of a movie like this, it's probably Dog Day Afternoon. That film works because we care about Sonny just as much as we do about the boyfriend on the other end of the phone. There's no equivalent for Money Monster, though it could have been the cop, it could have been the girlfriend, it could have been the code-writers. There are a few surprises, good intentions, and Foster has a deft hand for the pacing. But any time the script asked me to care about these characters as people, I felt like it was faking. Maybe the smartest, most modern touch is the suggestion that becoming a meme on Vine is a deeper indignity that going on trial for breaking international law. 106. Jane Got a Gun (Gavin O’Connor) Jane Got a Gun makes sense as a vanity project for Natalie Portman because it allows her to play a lot of qualities she never has: steely, street-smart, matronly. The problem is that she doesn't play any of those particularly well, and the title character is not the most interesting or active one in the piece.That designation would go to Joel Edgerton's Dan Frost (not the woefully miscast Ewan McGregor). When the movie works, it's because he's selling the doomed nature of the Dan-Jane love affair, tugging at his own pride. But just as the film is cresting to an elegiac place, it pulls into the final shootout station. All of these movies end with the same twenty minutes, and if you aren't invested in the characters, that last leg can go on forever. 105. April and the Extraordinary World (Franck Ekinci, Christian Desmares) Like anything steampunk, April and the Extraordinary World has at least one dumb thing for each cool thing. I think the problem is that it can't decide how much of a mystery it wants to be; that is, which elements are unexplained to engage the viewer and which elements are unexplained because the filmmakers don't feel like explaining them. The art direction has so many tiny ingenious touches that define this alternate past in Paris, so of course the movie leaves Paris for a fake jungle created by sentient lizards. The animation does have some cell-shaded, Ghibli charm though. I almost forgot how water splashing looked for ninety years. 104. Florence Foster Jenkins (Stephen Frears) Meryl Streep is in this, I guess, so feel free to throw any awards you want its way. It would be impossible for Stephen Frears, Streep, and Grant to turn in something less than competent, but, other than normalizing adultery, I don't know what Florence Foster Jenkins is doing that is novel or unsafe. Here's something: Has any review mentioned that at least fifteen minutes of running time is made up of someone singing poorly? Not a starting-to-sing and we cut away after a few reaction shots. We're riding out full performances that are--such is the premise of the film--supposed to be unlistenable. Customize your back speakers to really steer into that piercing quality on minute eight of the Carnegie Hall performance. We got the point in the first half-hour, but let's really make it unpleasant. If you like this movie, it probably reminds you of splashy, unchallenging pictures that used to get made for adults. But, as a story about a person of privilege who is coddled to absurd, harmful degrees to hide her from an undeniable objective truth, it might be the most 2016 film I saw all year. 103. Cemetery of Splendor (Apichatpong Weerasethakul) If you say so. I still don't really get this guy. Part of the point is that these mystical things are happening all around us: goddesses chopping it up at picnic tables, intermediaries taking over dead bodies and going on dream walks. And all of that is written with deadpan certainty. But if the supernatural is always presented in that nonchalant way, then is it noteworthy? At the risk of sounding like an ugly American, what else is there if the film is about a bizarre sleeping illness, but we aren't meant to believe that the condition is bizarre or an illness at all? From a directing standpoint, other than a graceful dissolve at the halfway point (and who can't do graceful dissolves?), it's just full two-shots for the length of scenes--even simpler than the composition of Uncle Boonme Can Recall His Past Lives. The last five minutes play out like an observational music video, and I think I would prefer a music video from Weerasethakul to another film.

102. Elle (Paul Verhoeven) It's useless to think about what a movie is not, but it would have been interesting to gauge the reception of this film if it didn't have the imprimatur of an interesting director and a truly great actress. Because what we get is tawdry on the level of a Cinemax feature, despite the handheld trappings of art cinema. People who laugh with the film instead of at it might point to Michele's job as a video game designer as layered: She's in the business of devising fantasies publicly, and that's often what drives her privately. But the dialogue in that space--"This is our one chance with Activision," "given your publishing and literary background..."--is too clunky and artificial to seem lived-in. (That’s what happens when a novel is written in French, the screenplay is written in English, the screenplay is translated into French, and French is the director’s third language.) And, at the most basic level, the character just doesn't seem to know what she's doing. There's one specific plot thread that I found ridiculous, but in general the screenplay seems to confuse lots of stuff happening to the character with the character authentically developing. I can see what the filmmakers were trying to do by refusing to make Michele traditionally sympathetic, but I'm out on this. 101. The Fits (Anna Rose Holmer) For a debut film, The Fits is visually decisive and polished, but it's as thin as its 72-minute runtime might suggest. The girls in the movie, for reasons no one can figure out, fall victim to fits, and those seizures become a metaphor for the inexplicable, almost mournful dread of becoming a woman. It's rare that a movie of this type works on the level of metaphor but fails as a slice-of-life thriller--the thriller tropes are kind of the easy part. I liked how locked into the setting we were, but there wasn't enough meat on the bone for me. 100. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (Gareth Edwards) The first Star Wars film that doesn't feel like an event, Rogue One has one interesting thing (what we learn about the retro-conned nature of something that happens at the end of A New Hope) and one cool thing (Darth Vader smoking some dudes). Ben Mendelsohn avails himself well I guess. But mostly the film feels like bloodless, sexless information in search of any type of humanity. What's weird, considering that A New Hope is one of the most mythologically sound films ever made, is that there isn't a lot of care spent on setting the scene. Can we see a bit more of the type of evil the Deathstar can wreak to build some stakes? Can we stay in one location for more than a few minutes? Can we not have a location named Jedah because it sounds too much like Jedi and makes me confused for a split second every time it's mentioned? I don't think I can say it any better than A.O. Scott, who considers Rogue One "a schoolbook exercise in a course of study that has no useful application and that will never end."