Barely qualifying as a film, does not qualify as a biopic in any sense of the word. Not as blatantly offensive as Bohemian Rhapsody of course, but you can tell this film was picked apart by vultures seeking to control the narrative of one of the most important musicians of all time. Until only sun dried calcified bones were left, a couple of pseudo music videos with CGI crowds and a personality drained Michael Jackson, a saint, a sinless abused…

i am proud of being Jewish, and this is a painful movie for me, pain being a preeminent theme of the film notwithstanding. i can appreciate the craft, which is undeniably beautiful, but if you’re going to stand for nothing, at least ask the right (or any!) questions.

i hope Corbet feels like he fits in with the auteurs he so desperately wants approval from. let’s just hope none of them think about the movie too hard.

not going to…

Certain expectations are built up with the typical signifiers of small town, suburban America: white picket fences, microwave meals, small class sizes and ring cameras. A corrupting force disrupts this pure, delicate balance: a haggard witch, some evil, inexplicable force is the only way that THAT could go wrong. This film supposes that is self explanatory, when we all (hopefully) know that’s complete bullshit. 

This is my essential qualm with Weapons. It doesn’t actually care to deeply investigate the rot,…