Thor was my choice. I'll admit that I was moved out of pure curiosity because I'd watched The Avengers not so long ago and even though I was dead cold sober found myself incapable of following the plot. My main gripe about The Avengers was that it suffered from what I term as "Too Much Awesome" (iow too many Mary Sue and Marty Stu characters).
So in essence, lots of loud explosions, wholesale destruction, and folks posing in cool costumes, with very little work done with story telling and actual character development (because of course we don't need any of that stuff when we have thousands of dollars to blow on CGI). I got about 10 minutes into The Avengers and realised I had absolutely no idea what was happening or even *why* characters were behaving in a certain way.
(Yes, looking at you, Loki. There are easier ways to sow discord than allowing yourself to be captured.)
But getting back to Thor. My final verdict is that Kenneth Branagh held it together remarkably well with a rubbish script. And seeing the arrogant little shit Thor getting hit by a car not once but twice really warmed my heart. I even giggled.
Loki, however, despite the fact that Hiddles as absolutely adorbs and I want to squish him, acts remarkably short-sighted for someone who's supposedly the god of mischief and discord. And the daddy issues. [sighs... shakes head]
And Odin supposedly just slipping off into a too-convenient coma for now apparent reason that's ever properly explained? Or the fact that there are apparently other ways in or out of Asgard but there's that big fuss at the end when they destroy Bifrost? Oh, and that rather literal deus ex machina. Why do I get the idea the writers had no idea how to save that scene?
Ag jawellnofine. Don't mind me getting my knickers in a twist. My inner editor is having conniption fits at this point. Thor was still better than enduring some dumbass romcom or being forced to watch cricket.
People, this is why I get agitated when I hear they're probably going to
Now, onto Fright Night 2: New Blood. Basically, they took the exact same plot as the first reboot starring the rather delicious Colin Farrell and David Tennant, but they made our fanged friend a woman. Namely the rather luscious Jaime Murray (who is very, very delicious in this role).
(The reboot of the first movie was totally stupidly awesome B-grade horror pulp, loads of fun to watch.)
Then they take the myth of Elizabeth Bathory, and they completely ham it up with some sort of bizarre prophecy involving sacrifice of virgin blood. Then throw in more improbable character motivation and behaviour than you can shake a stick at...
Sorry... I was too busy ogling Jaime and thinking about which characters I'd like to cast her as in my novels.
So, if you like the idea of watching a naked and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous Jaime bathing in blood and biting people, you can't go wrong with this film. But not much else goes right with it. The husband thing says that the set dressing and cinematography is good, so yes, this is a pretty film. But as for the rest... It's pretty awful and you might want to gouge your eyes out at the end for some of the illogical, senseless twists.
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