Holy. Fuck. This movie is incredible.
"Fuck dis, I’m outta here. Here we go."
The storm’s reached the coast #vscocam
What if I don’t want to be a superhero?
What if a collection of aesthetically god-like males and females darting across the world in skin tight suits delivering conveniently realised and perfectly delivered one-liners doesn’t quite cut it for me?
And for £9.99 a ticket?
Oh, just fuck off.
The only life that actually needs saving is my own, after sitting through nearly 3 hours of this mass-produced, moron pleasing, popcorn suffocation inducing bile.
Now, I know that I’m wasting my time writing this, as the Hollywood machine is churning on at a speed faster than light, and I know fully well that the Superhero renaissance is one of the most lucrative genre comebacks that film has seen.
I’m just upset about it, okay?
Surely I can’t be alone here? Guys? Oh.
The post 9/11 world clearly needed something to latch onto and bring them a glimmer of hope, but did Hollywood have to take that so literally?
Each film is horrendously over-patriotic, packed with more A-Listers than Queen Elizabeth’s annual birthday rave, and each one follows the same predictable “light versus dark, light overcomes dark, now go and buy this toy” formula.
Obviously they’re created for the sole purpose of fun, and they clearly deliver that in truck loads, but come on guys, can we not make them a tad more interesting?
The first point that boils my blood, is CGI.
Don’t even get me started.
Every single frame of a Superhero movie is crammed with an impossible amount of visual information, and sadly there’s a strong chance that only 20% of that was actually captured in front of the camera.
Of course, as always, I blame George Lucas for this. Not that he has anything to do with the Comic Book regeneration, but I can confidently blame him for raising a small, baby Hollywood’s head up the supple teet of the digital age, and not letting it stop feeding. HOLLYWOOD HAS HAD ENOUGH MILK, MR LUCAS.
I also blame George Lucas when I can’t wake up in the morning.
Or when I have wind. But enough of that.
I’m utterly sick of Hollywood’s dependance on computer generated effects and imagery. It’s a complete waste of the locations, tools, crafts and highly trained individuals that this lovely world has to offer.
Apart from a slow-but-steady comeback for the Sci-Fi genre (which I couldn’t be happier about), the sad fact remains… the Superhero movie IS Hollywood.
Each film is an explosive advertisement for Hollywood itself, showcasing every single service and tool it has to offer, but yet also showcasing it’s regular inability to utilise what’s in front of them.
Like an overly-hyper, obsessively house-proud contestant on “Come Dine with Me”, shamelessly showing the guests around their immaculate abode, but forgetting to actually put any thought into their meal. When they bring out the steaming plates of Robert Downey Jr’s remains, smeared with a stale helping of Thor Sauce, it’s evident that, no matter how delicious he looks, he was terribly over-cooked, and far too many ingredients were used.
2/10. Get me in that Taxi.