PangolinBier

For those born in 2000 or later, Predator: Badlands will probably come off as a halfway decent action-adventure film. However, for those of us who grew up watching American films before the wholesale woke-washing of the industry, this is just another eye-rolling brick in the wall. There was a time when “re-imagining” tropes through a counter-culture lens was, in fact, somewhat interesting because of its novelty (e.g., improbably strong female leads). A quarter-century later, and it’s no longer novel; it is the most tiresome, expected thing in the world. All male characters—and especially white male characters—are thoroughly plagued by faults and inadequacies: weak, indolent, stupid, incompetent, helpless, or corrupt. Or any combination of these things. To the extent they can become praiseworthy at all, it is ALWAYS only through the strength, energy, intelligence, determination, competence, or virtue of a woman. In Predator: Badlands, every male character is either corrupt, weak, or both, in comparison to every female character. “Father” is a brutal monster bent on filicide. So is “Mother.” But Mother is even more awesome than Father because she is more brutal and terrifying than he is. Tessa, a female synthetic, is monstrous in strength—OBVIOUSLY—as well as personality, but Dek’s only hope of successfully facing her in battle is with his all-female retinue, who are destined to become his new family in a world bereft of fathers. 1/10. This movie is a bowl of cold, beige oatmeal.

8/10 | As others have said, this is not a knock-down, drag-out horror. It feels more like a supernatural mystery punctuated by disturbing elements—which, for me personally, is my cup of tea. I think jump scares are cheap and overplayed, and I've never enjoyed gore-fest stuff, though fans of the latter will get a dose of it in this film. One of my favorite things about Weapons was the way in which the story unfolded in a series of acts based on different characters. I hope that's not too much of a spoiler, but I wanted to mention it in case someone is on the fence about watching it. This method of storytelling was a clever way of filling in the gaps and slowly revealing the mystery surrounding the missing children.

This was my favorite of the "28" series, but perhaps that's because I'm not a full-bore horror aficionado. Personally, I think the most impressive way to make a memorable zombie film is to emphasize how the horror can shatter the predictability of ordinary life. At its best, this is what The Walking Dead accomplished so well. The underappreciated Maggie (2015) is another good example. But to make the horror effect impactful, you shouldn't constantly shatter the ordinary or else the horror will become predictable and ordinary. 28 Years Later excels because the horror remains dormant or lurks for stretches at a time before bursting onto the scene. Also, let's talk about how beautiful some of the aerial and wide-shot scenes are, with vibrant greenery all about. The soundtrack was also fantastic—frenetic and industrial at times; at others, ethereal and melancholy. 8/10 from me.

@dangerousnightmare Haha - I didn't, but the suspicion is understandable.

When I sat down to watch Sovereignty, I was prepared to suffer through another Hollywood propaganda piece filled to the brim with awkwardly conspicuous “minority” cast members and left-wing political messaging delivered with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. After all, several professional critics on Rotten Tomatoes hailed the film for its depiction of what they call toxic masculinity. (“Sure, Jan.”) But that wasn’t what I saw. Nick Offerman’s “Jerry Kane” is a dead-ringer for every 50-plus armchair warrior on Facebook. Meaning he’s loud, apoplectic, and operates at two speeds: intense and angry. But whereas other directors would be satisfied with a grotesquely caricaturized Kane, under Christian Swegal’s direction, he is full of humanity. You can hate Kane for his short-sightedness, his vices, and especially his gross imprudence with respect to his son’s future; but you can also relate to his frustration with the hundreds of small sociopolitical ropes that bind all of us, here and there, the way the Lilliputians bound Gulliver. And you can and should pull for him every time he shows genuine admiration for his son. On that note— As for the police officers in this film, they are not really portrayed as heroic or monstrous. They are agents of the state. They do their job, and their job is to enforce the law; it is not to be compassionate or lenient or even understanding. This is a lesson for those of us in real life. Some police officers *may* behave in such ways, but it would always be inadvisable for the ordinary citizen to assume that ostensibly compassionate, lenient, and understanding police officers have his best interests at heart. They don’t. Which is why, in the end, despite all his faults and paranoia, Jerry Kane truly is more sympathetic than the institutions he battled.

Bored to tears. I guess that makes me one of the odd ones out. I suffered through the first hour before finally quitting. It's not like I'm the kind of person who can't sit through a slow film. In fact, I love slow-paced dramas and languid arthouse films. But Sinners couldn't hook me, period. There was never a moment that I felt curious about the characters or interested in the story. Speaking of the characters, they struck me as patently superficial — great wardrobes but no depth or complexity. All of them could have fallen in love or been murdered and it would have made no difference to me. Some reviewers here said that the second half of the film picks up. That's all well and good — if the midway point of a film isn't the 60-minute mark.