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Nemesis to the decorous ideals of cinema, The Avengers is nothing but a negation of true artistry. This overwhelming monstrosity utilizes an outrageous CGI conglomerate to conjure a counterfeit of idolized comic-strip mediocrity. As a result, the CGI transformations of the human in this rickety excrement are completely intolerable in terms of aesthetics, giving up relevant concerns and utopian ideals for a comic-induced aura of legitimacy.
The characters within are base conduits of comic strip mythos, charged with the abominable task of blunting the notion of justice in favor of saturnalian shenanigans. A visually bland experience, with cinematography confined to the realms of prosaic utility, shows little appetite for escalating the fracas of dramaturgy. The cast represents a gathering of marketable thespians, whose lack of incentive to act mars the potential for gloaming immersion.
Notwithstanding the repugnant implications of its franchised formula, this blimpish attempt to evoke adolescent fantasy is a dissolute travesty of cinema, making any attempt to generate quality a laughable concept whose puny value gives rise to further tongue-in-cheek retrogression. Consequently, The Avengers becomes a sprawling anomie against cinema's commanding power, supplying a perfect exemplar of the most boorish vacuity.
Marvel is essentially poisoning the well of cinema, and it's unfortunate that some people are too blinded to recognize this.
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An unapologetic synthesis of post-modern idolatry helmed by a director who draws from the work of masters, Django Unchained offers a hefty disarray of flippant, crass, cartoonish, and acerbic tomfoolery. The ensemble of characters firing in what some would call an opulent fashion makes for electric scenes of lurid suspense and dazzling engagements of dialogue-heavy standoffs. In the latter, it is not uncommon to find Waltz and DiCaprio leading the show with their own respective brands of wry wit, indicative of Tarantino's signature vivaciousness.
There is no question of where characters stand in the film as Tarantino unflinchingly depicts the ugly side of Americana by exploiting the vestigial recollection of slavery. This refreshingly equitable perspective is thusly couched in atonal satire, blinding in its raw and uncompromising aesthetic. The plethora of blustering performances and jocular cameos earn the film a level of watchability that is easily digestible, yet still retains some of the much-needed quality.
On the flip side, exhibited at various points of its runtime is a lack of finesse and eloquence that makes certain scenes hard to swallow but doesn't tarnish sum total, making the unshackled hero's journey a worthwhile if uneven experience.
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San Franciscan lesbian dwarves and their tomato orgies.
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