Ten Little Chances to be Free (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tenlittlebullets) wrote2003-09-26 05:51 pm
tenlittlebullets) wrote2003-09-26 05:51 pm
*throws things*
<tantrum> I hate being a girl. Hatehatehate. I hate being physically weak; I hate the automatic pigeonhole it puts me in socially, that I have to fight to get out of in a way no boy has to do. But above all that, I hate my period. More specifically, I hate the fucking cramps, which today were so bad that I had to spend most of my weightlifting class in the nurse's office lying down. I never asked to be a girl, I never wanted to be a girl, my life would've been a whole lot easier if I'd've just been born with a dick.
</tantrum>
For your viewing pleasure:
The Matrix Revolutions trailer [Hi-Res] [Med-Res] [Lo-Res]
Meh. I have to say, the second Matrix movie really turned me off with its complete lack of a viable plot--or, if it had a plot, it wasn't pulled off well at all. Not to mention the completely gratuitous Neo/Trinity sex scene and the Zion dance-party-slash-orgy. The third one had better kick some serious ass if it wants to win its audience back, and let me guarantee you it won't win it back with loud, random explosions and bullshit philosophy.
There was just something about the first one, something that made you overlook its numerous plot holes and the philosophy that any of my friends could have come up with given sufficient quantities of alcohol. It had a ring of excitement in it; the viewers identified with Neo, the alienated geek turned defender of the future. Now Neo's a hero, Neo's Superman, Neo gets the girl and the fans and has so many powers that his characterisation is diminished to the point where he no longer seems the guy that we could so easily identify with. In fact, he no longer seems quite human--he's become the dreaded fanfiction Gary Stu, with no hint of dramatic irony or depth and no places for the audience to hiss, "No, don't do that, you idiot." He does exactly what he is supposed to do, which is what sucks the excitement out of Reloaded. Things happen, but only the characters know why--the reasons go right over the audience's head if they were there at all, leaving an assortment of action scenes cut through with long rambles on causality, which is sufficiently less interesting than the 'brain-in-a-vat' theory for people to doze off through the Architecht's speech and wake up when things start breaking and people start shooting again.
It has just occurred to me that every movie I have seen in theaters in the past two years has been mindless eye candy whose cinematographic impact is roughly equal to the musical impact of a Britney Spears song--that is, if it is influential, it is only because it has been touted to the point where some people might believe it's meaningful. The major movie industry is beginning to depress me almost as much as the major music industry, and all I can do is duck and run with a copy of Blade Runner held over my head as a shield.
</tantrum>
For your viewing pleasure:
The Matrix Revolutions trailer [Hi-Res] [Med-Res] [Lo-Res]
Meh. I have to say, the second Matrix movie really turned me off with its complete lack of a viable plot--or, if it had a plot, it wasn't pulled off well at all. Not to mention the completely gratuitous Neo/Trinity sex scene and the Zion dance-party-slash-orgy. The third one had better kick some serious ass if it wants to win its audience back, and let me guarantee you it won't win it back with loud, random explosions and bullshit philosophy.
There was just something about the first one, something that made you overlook its numerous plot holes and the philosophy that any of my friends could have come up with given sufficient quantities of alcohol. It had a ring of excitement in it; the viewers identified with Neo, the alienated geek turned defender of the future. Now Neo's a hero, Neo's Superman, Neo gets the girl and the fans and has so many powers that his characterisation is diminished to the point where he no longer seems the guy that we could so easily identify with. In fact, he no longer seems quite human--he's become the dreaded fanfiction Gary Stu, with no hint of dramatic irony or depth and no places for the audience to hiss, "No, don't do that, you idiot." He does exactly what he is supposed to do, which is what sucks the excitement out of Reloaded. Things happen, but only the characters know why--the reasons go right over the audience's head if they were there at all, leaving an assortment of action scenes cut through with long rambles on causality, which is sufficiently less interesting than the 'brain-in-a-vat' theory for people to doze off through the Architecht's speech and wake up when things start breaking and people start shooting again.
It has just occurred to me that every movie I have seen in theaters in the past two years has been mindless eye candy whose cinematographic impact is roughly equal to the musical impact of a Britney Spears song--that is, if it is influential, it is only because it has been touted to the point where some people might believe it's meaningful. The major movie industry is beginning to depress me almost as much as the major music industry, and all I can do is duck and run with a copy of Blade Runner held over my head as a shield.