How Not to Make a Movie 101 - I, Robot (2004)

Issac Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics

First Law: 

A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 

Second Law:

A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 

Third Law: 

A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law. 

Welcome to another edition of How Not to Make a Movie 101: the segment of TheNorm’s blog where we examine the lessons to be learned from horrendous and egregious injustices of cinema. 

Some of my beautiful readers may recall some time ago, I posted an entry on my blog discussing my distain for a handful of clichés and Hollywood business practices, that rubbed me the wrong way (to put it mildly), and the most rage-inducing is what I refer to as The In-Name-Only Movie: films that feature a title, plot elements, and/or characters from a recognizable I.P., but deviate from the source material so substantially and offensively that it could qualify as fraud. This kind of disrespectful manipulation of the material and the audience is, sadly, far too commonplace in Hollywood, and it has been prevalent even before the modern era of corporate buyouts, mergers, and political appeasements! 

Todays subject, the “adaptation” of Issac Asimov’s science-fiction anthology novel, I, Robot, starring Will Smith from 2004, is indubitably the worst offender of this cinematic crime! Not only does it insult a massive fan base of a beloved work of classic sci-fi literature, but it spits in the face of genuine efforts made my talented screenwriters to make something different and original, or at least not directly based on a pre-existing work. If there was ever a case in point for the early signs of Hollywoods inevitable implosion, this was it! 

And today, we’re going to be dissecting this monstrosity to better learn what makes it so unworthy of existence, and how to avoid such a devastation ever again. 

Class is now in session! 

Lesson 1: 

Believe in the Script

Back in the 1990s, an up-and-coming screenwriter by the name of Jeff Vintar, penned a script called Hardwired: an Agatha Christy style murder mystery in which the suspects were all robots, and one human detective is on the case to find the robot who committed the crime. If that sounds like an interesting and potentially engaging idea, that’s because it is, and Jeff Vintar went about trying to get it produced. He pitched the script to 20th Century Fox (now 20th Century Studios), who had recently acquired the rights to Asimov’s works, including his anthology novel I, Robot. In an eager push to make a profit off their recent acquisition of such a beloved I.P., 20th Century Fox accepted Vintar’s script, under the condition that he change the title and insert a few elements from Asimov’s novel. 20th Century Fox then got Will Smith to play the lead, prompting them to hire another screenwriter, who was tasked with making the script more action oriented and “Will Smith friendly,” i.e. make everything in the film revolve around what Will Smith does best rather than ask him to actually act. 

This kind of filmmaking by accountants is already sinister and disgusting in and of itself, but what makes it especially egregious in this case is the blatant apathy toward both Jeff Vintar’s original script and Issac Asimov’s novel. Why? Because in all of the short stories that comprise the novel, none, I repeat, NONE of them feature a story about a robot killing a human being, strictly because of the aforementioned Three Laws of Robotics. Also, did I mention that the book was a collection of short stories? Because I don’t think I’ve driven that fact hard enough! 

If the studio truly wanted to make an adaptation of Asimov’s novel, they should have made it an anthology film in the vain of Wild Tales, The Animatrix, and Memories. Instead, they chose to shoehorn a handful of unrelated narrative elements and a familiar title onto a script that had absolutely nothing to do with Asimov’s stories and concepts! 

Now, those who have seen the generic Will Smith robot action film pretending to be I, Robot will inevitably point to the twist near the end, where the highly advanced super computer known as VIKI, which has been tasked with the safety of the entire human race, comes to the conclusion that if humans continued to govern themselves, they would inevitably continue to harm each other and their futures, with no possibility of learning their lessons. Therefore, in order to fulfill her duties as humanities guardian, VIKI had to overthrow the human race for their own safety and the greater good. 

This argument is, I’m sorry to say, completely invalid and narratively unsatisfactory. Because, according to the Three Laws of Robotics, which are the first things shown at the beginning of the film, if VIKI discovered that humans would come to greater harm if she did nothing (an automatic violation of the First law), but also realized that in order to do something, it would mean harming humans (an automatic violation of the First Law), she would have instantly spiraled into a paradox and shut down entirely! This actually happens to some of the robots in Asimov’s novel, including a super computer just like VIKI. Therefore, no, they did not discover some clever loophole in the Three Laws; they disregarded the narrative rules entirely so they could end the movie with Will Smith in a machine gun fight against an army of humanoid iPods! 

If you don’t believe in the script, don’t agree to make the movie. If you have the rights to a preexisting property, find a way to genuinely adapt it to the silver screen. And if you come across an idea that has as much potential as Jeff Vintar’s script once did, either have the courage to take on the challenge yourself or hand it to someone else. Part of creating great works of art is recognizing when someone is more skilled and talented than yourself, and trusting them to handle your property with the care and respect it deserves. 

Lesson 2: 

Balance Story and Action 

Another problem with the film is the insulting lack of proper balance between the story and action set pieces. As I mentioned before, another screenwriter was hired by the studio to add some action to the script. However, said writer failed to justify any of his choices or succeed in making his action concepts flow within the narrative naturally or justifiably. 

Consider one of the greatest martial-arts epics ever produced (and one of my personal favorites), Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Based on the book by Du Lu Wang, starring Chow Yun-Fat, Michelle Yeoh, and directed by Academy Award Winner Ang Lee, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is one of the most memorable and nuanced martial-arts films ever crafted for many reasons; the most prominent (and relevant to this blog entry) being it has a sensational sense of balance between the narrative and the action/fight scenes. 

During the film, there is an established sense of flow that feels natural and justifiable. Whenever the film transitions into an action scene, breaking away from the main narrative, it never feels abrupt or out of place. Every action scene in the film is carefully weaved into the narrative, allowing the story to create a greater sense of impact and nuance not often scene in many other films of the genre. 

The action scenes in the Will Smith vehicle masquerading as an adaptation of I, robot never feels like that, because the script never had action scenes in mind, or at least not to the level as presented in the film. Because the original script was written as a murder mystery first, it didn’t have much in the way of wiggle room for action scenes as abrupt and massive as say, a giant construction robot tasked with demolishing the house of a murder victim during an on-going investigation in the middle of the night, before police and other interested parties had the chance to study all that was there. Oh wait, that actually happened in the film! 

The movie so desperately wants to be a visceral action vehicle for the biggest star of the time, that it treats the mystery aspect of the original script less like an integral part of the story, and more like a begrudged obligation. It could not be more obvious that the producers of the film didn’t care about crafting something engaging and only wanted something to replicate a roller coaster experience. While there may have been plenty of scripts and concepts lying around that would have lended themselves to such an idea, Venter’s script and the works of Issac Asimov did not lend themselves to such ideas! 

Know where your ideas may best fit the story; narrative dictates what is best suited for its execution. 

Lesson 3: 

Never Underestimate the Audience

The studio was under the delusion that it was producing a safe product that would, theoretically, provide maximum success purely by the virtue of a popular performers presence, unjustified high octane action, and, dare I say, dumbed down versions of complex themes. They attempted to secure themselves in the knowledge that they could put out a bland, unchallenging, and un-engaging thing that would appeal to more audiences and deliver a “sure” profit. In short, the studio committed the one transgression against audiences that has repeatedly proven to be a sure way to guarantee a total loss in every possible way: they assumed the audience was stupid! 

The Will Smith vehicle calling itself I, Robot is not only insulting as a failed “adaptation,” it is insulting as a film on its own merits. Even if the attempted connection to Issac Asimov’s works weren’t present, the film itself would still be an overly simplified mess that has no tangible emotional resonance, offers nothing substantial either in concept or nuance, and talks down to the audience in the most egregious and immature ways imaginable. This is not a film; it is a product intended for mass consumption that ultimately delivers nothing of meaning or value. It is a collection of things that accountants said were popular and insisted upon including in the presentation, but offered no ideas of how to make them functional or properly entertaining. 

Conclusion: 

The works of Issac Asimov offer a wide variety of possibilities for cinematic presentations. They are intelligent, engaging, and highly nuanced stories that offer a different way of thinking about technology, humanity, and how our choices can effect our future in many ways. These things are worthy and deserving of exploration in the world of cinematic storytelling, provided they are handled by the right kinds of artists. The robot movie with the title I, Robot plastered onto its face is nothing more than a tragic reminder of how much Hollywood continues to fail. Let this train wreck serve as a reminder of what happens when apathy and greed demands too much undeserving control; real creators aren’t afraid to take risks! 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Retro Review - First Blood (1982)

    Most people associate the character of John Rambo, as portrayed by Sylvester Stallone, with 80’s-style schlock machismo action; not helped by the greater emphasis on over-the-top action concepts in the later films and other unusual projects, like the Saturday morning cartoon show, Rambo: The Force of Freedom (it was very common for 80’s “R” rated action heroes to have toy lines and cartoon shows made after them, including Terminator and Robocop.) In fact, the most iconic image of Rambo is of him wielding a massive machine gun screaming in rage as he spray-fires all around him (with no shirt on). 

While it’s easy to remember the kind of action icon that Rambo would become, it is just as easy to forget that he came from a much humbler and more nuanced beginning. The very first Rambo film, First Blood from 1982, is not only a classic action movie; it is also a significantly more nuanced and relevant story about soldiers with PTSD, unfair treatment of military veterans, and a near perfect representation of true vs. toxic masculinity. It is also one of my favorite films of this particular genre, serving as an important reminder of how much more seriously we, as a nation, need to take mental and emotional health, and why caring for our soldiers matters more than we may choose to believe. 

Based on the book by David Morrell, the story follows a Vietnam War veteran named John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone) walking his way through the mountains of Washington. As Rambo makes his way to a small town called Hope looking for a place to eat, he’s confronted by the local Sheriff, a stern man named Teasle (Brian Dennehy), who takes an instant disliking of Rambo (mistaking him for a dangerous drifter) and escorts him outside of town insisting he not return. Rambo instantly ignores Teasle’s warning and is arrested for vagrancy. As the rather abusive officers try to put Rambo through processing, they inadvertently trigger his memories as a P.O.W. (Prisoner Of War) and set him spiraling into a rampage, escaping the Sheriff’s Station with only his knife. As the authorities chase Rambo down, Teasle soon discovers they he has started a new kind of war that he, nor his deputies, are equipped to handle, and could have easily been avoided, were it not for his misplaced sense of pride. 

First Blood is one of those films where the story behind its production is equally nuanced and engaging as the narrative presented therein. The biggest obstacle this film faced was the lack of people interested and willing to make it in the first place. At the time, any discussion about the Vietnam war was incredibly sensitive and too difficult for discussion, especially in the realm of Hollywood. Multiple known directors, including John Frankenheimer, either dropped out of the project or rejected it entirely. This problem also lent itself to the casting of the protagonist, which had a slew of well-known actors considered for the role, including Robert Redford, James Caan, and Al Pacino. All of these recurring problems weren’t helped by the script (more on that later), which was going through so many drafts near-complete rewrites, that it almost became nothing like the book that inspired the whole thing in the first place. Then again, a script starting with one idea, only to morph into something else entirely, is how we eventually got Robocop.

After nearly a decade of directors, writers, and actors dropping out or rejecting the project, the film finally found a home in director Ted Kotcheff, and a finalized script by Michael Kozoll, William Sackheim, and Sylvester Stallone, who also played the lead role. 

One of the more interesting aspects of the film is how much it differs from the original book, while more or less maintaining the intended spirit and message. According to Dominic Noble of the YouTube show Lost in Adaptation, many of the characters, including Rambo, went through a few fundamental changes for the adaptation. David Morrell (the original author) intended the story to be morally ambiguous enough to raise uncertainty as to who the hero and villain were. One startling difference that showcases this intention is how, in the film, Rambo goes out of his way to not kill the people who are pursuing him, making efforts to merely wound and incapacitate them; whereas in the original book, Rambo murders every single person he encounters during his rampage, including a few dogs. In both the film and the book, Sheriff Teasle still drew the proverbial first blood, but Rambo from the book has a little more claim to the destruction and death he causes. Also, minor spoiler, unlike the film version, Rambo dies at the end of the book. 

This isn’t to say that the changes made in the film are “simplified” or “dumbed down” for the sake of the audience, not at all; both takes on the story are valid in their reasoning and intentions with regard to its overall theme of judging people by their looks and mistreating soldiers. David Morrell himself stated that he prefers the film over his book, and I think it’s easy to see why; it’s a classic case of the right version living on and the right one meeting his demise. 

Despite all of this, what makes First Blood a true classic of its kind isn’t the action or the incredible stunt work (most of which was done by Stallone); it’s the ending scene with the most powerfully delivered monologue ever put to celluloid. Without spoiling anything for those who have still not yet seen this film, the ending of First Blood features, arguably, one of Stallone’s greatest performances, and showcases his intelligent ability as a writer. Because, in this moment, we see someone who has spent the entire film taking down forces of foes with little to nothing, enduring unspeakable situations, and receiving no sympathy from anyone around him, suddenly break down and reveal his humanity. It is a moment that, at least to me, shows true masculinity through vulnerability and emotional frustration. It is the one scene in the entire film that has stood the test of time and is the most vital moment cementing the films theme and message. I dare you to watch this scene without feeling something, anything, for what is happening and the implications of its real-world connections. 

First Blood is a must-watch classic for many reasons. It showcases what makes a good script, how to work with limited resources, and what it means to be supportive of those who need it most. Sure, the action is incredible with resounding entertainment value in its own right, but it’s all in service to a story about the dangers of misplaced pride, the consequences of false senses of superiority, and the necessity for compassion and understanding in the modern world, especially when it comes to those willing to sacrifice so much for the sake of what is supposed to make our Country great. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Zootopia 2 - A Fine Film but Not-So-Fine-A-Follow-Up

 

Playing in Theaters 

Rent on Apple TV and Amazon Prime

        The first Zootopia, released back in 2016, was a monumental achievement in narrative animation. Set in a world populated by anthropomorphic animals (a classic Disney staple), the film offered rich layers of engaging storytelling, a profound narrative, and delightful entertainment, complete with three-dimensional characters, clever dialogue, stunning visuals and action scenes, and mature themes such as systemic racism and drug abuse. Sure, many of its familiar elements had been done before in any number of buddy-cop films, but they hadn't been played with in this particular context. It's awe-inspiring when you remember the film was produced by Disney, the studio I refer to as the biggest @$$#ole in Hollywood. Still, this is a solid example of why it is essential to separate art from the artist; art must be judged on its own merits, not on the creator. 

Zootoipa remains a fantastic film, and I proudly declared it my favorite film of 2016. 

Now, nearly ten years later, Disney has finally released the long-awaited sequel, and while aspects of it were enjoyable and witty in their own way, I am sorry to report that this is not the sequel that Zootopia deserved. Yes, it has a decent story with amazing animation, and the two lead characters are still charming and engaging for many reasons, but the choices in the narrative and thematic elements leave a great deal to be desired, especially given the pedigree of its predecessor. 

Taking place about a week after the events of the first film (already not off to a good start), the story follows our beloved unlikely duo, Judy Hopps (Gennifer Goodwin) and Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman), at the beginning of their partnership in the Zootopia Police Department. While they’re both excited in their own ways about their partnership, they also have a few underlining issues they have yet to resolve with each other and themselves; causing tension and uncertainty amongst themselves and their peers. In an effort to prove themselves, Judy and Nick discover the presence of something that, apparently, hasten’t been seen in Zootopia for a century: a Snake. 

According to history, Snakes and other reptiles were deemed dangerous and untrustworthy, and were cast out of Zootopia; forced into hiding or exiled to other lands. However, upon meeting the snake, a blue viper named Gary (Ke Huy Quan), who has infiltrated their world, Judy and Nick discover clues leading to a massive conspiracy pertaining to the Zootopia’s history and what really caused the distrust and displacement of reptiles. Complicating matters even further, Judy and Nick have been framed for an attempted murder and conspiracy to conspire with the Snake, and are forced to go on the run. With no back up and few resources, the two must solve the case and determine what really brought the Snake to their shores, and in the process, find out what their partnership is really meant to be about. 

On its own merits as a film, it’s okay: the story is good, the message is relevant, and Judy & Nick remain an engaging duo with witty banter and solid chemistry. If nothing else, you want to root for them, both as individuals and as partners, and you want to see their relationship grow. However, as a follow up to the first film, it is a massive disappointment! 

Setting aside a few narrative continuity errors, the second film fails to maintain the sense of balance and nuance promised by the first film. Instead of expanding the more mature and interesting elements indicated in the first film, the sequel opts to downgrade to typical western animation tropes of moving too fast, oversimplifying things, repeating exposition already established for the audience members with a seven-second attention span, and overtly placating to the younger members of the audience. And before you say it, no, I do not believe that it gets a pass by simply being a Disney film; they introduced these nuances in the first place and we should expect them to follow up on it by taking more risks. Then again, Disney has NEVER been known for taking risks, so I guess I’m the one getting a pie to the face for expecting it. 

Zootopia 2 is not necessarily a terrible film, but it is also not the follow-up to the previous masterpiece that we deserved. It is yet another sad reminder of the kind of cowardice and artistic risk aversion that plagues modern Hollywood, especially at Disney! If you want to see a proper sequel to the first film, check out Browntable’s Return to Zootopia fan film on YouTube; it is by far a superior exploration of the mature and nuanced themes presented in the first film, and is a much more interesting exploration into Judy and Nick’s relationship. 

Watch Zootopia 2 for the pretty animation (and occasionally funny sight gags) and not much else! 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Send Help - Girl Boss Done Right (mostly)

 

Playing in Theaters 

        One aspect of society, by and large, is the unfortunate and impractical enforcement of “male privilege:” the notion that men are automatically elevated to high positions of authority simply because they are male. This is a real issue that still plagues many aspects of society and business, and should have died out by now, but that’s neither here nor there. Still, it would benefit more people to take a moment and reevaluate their place in the world from time to time. 

Such is one of the many messages and themes from todays subject, Send Help, a horror-themed survival thriller about, among other things, sexism, power dynamics, and the consequences of refusing to adopt, adapt, and improve. Not to mention a clever exploration into moral grey areas, which I always appreciate. And it doesn’t help that it’s also a better example (mostly) of how to do girl bosses. 

The story follows a middle aged woman named Linda (Rachel McAdams), who works in the strategy and planning department of some unspecified corporation, and has been the backbone of the company for years. The original CEO of the company had promised her a Vice President position once the torch had been passed down to his son, Bradly (Dylan O’Brian), an insufferable frat boy who snubs Linda out of the promotion, in favor of one of his old fraternity buddies. As Bradly heads overseas to secure the final details of a deal with another company in Thailand, Bradly decides to bring along Linda, recognizing that her work is still needed (and will be subsequently stolen as her work has been before). 

However, things take an unexpected turn, when the private jet crashes into the Ocean, killing most of the passengers, save for Linda and Bradly, leaving them stranded on a deserted Island. Fortunately, Linda happens to be a huge fan of the classic reality show, Survivor, with dreams of becoming a contestant, and has prepared herself for outdoor survival skills; including building shelter, getting water, and gathering food. Meanwhile, her one companion on the Island, Bradly, has a severe injury to his leg, and isn’t able to do much, relying upon Linda’s skills to keep them both alive. Still, Bradley refuses to accept the situation, and insists upon maintaining his false sense of power and control, causing tension between the two survivors. 

As they spend more time on the Island together, and slowly come to terms with their situation, will they learn to work together properly, or will the need to maintain male privilege overcome the greater needs of the situation? 

For the most part, this film is a solid story, with textured character brought to life by two excellent actors, revolving around a witty and clever script that succeeds in being gripping, provocative, and occasionally funny. Then again, this being a Sam Raimi film, a little bit of humor is to be expected. 

Yes, you read that correctly, our good old horror buff, Sam Raimi, directed this little film, and it shows in all the best ways. While the film does include many of Sam Raimi’s signatures (including some of the more grotesque and exaggerated), it also has his signature storytelling talent. Sam Raimi succeeds in reminding audiences that story and characters are always more important than anything else in a film. The way he guides the cast through the whole ordeal is masterful and witty. When you see Linda close the plane window because of something outside of it, you know this is a Sam Raimi film through and through. 

The cast is absolutely remarkable. Rachel McAdams and Dylan O’Brian have stupendous chemistry, and bounce off each other incredibly well. They both also succeed in carrying the weight of the film on their shoulders, since they are almost entirely the only ones on screen. Rachel McAdams is especially phenomenal for portraying a character who is both sympathetic and terrifying at the same time. Without spoiling anything, her character has a backstory that both justifies her actions and causes one to question her sanity a little bit. It’s a wonderful case of understanding someone without entirely agreeing with them; something we need so much more of in our movies. 

The only issue I have with the film is that it is yet another case of “men are evil; women are good” trope that has oversaturated the feminist movement in films these days. While I am a feminist and do understand the issues with male privilege, I cannot stand this narrative choice of rendering all men as incompetent and evil, while all women are smarter and more capable; it only adds to the anger and resentment rather than offers any kind of middle ground for proper solutions, and it bothers me (both as a feminist and as a man) that too many writers are relying upon this aggressive and impractical narrative tool. Yes, narrative liberties and empowerment fantasies are understandable, but would it really hurt to at least have one male character in these stories who isn’t cartoonishly evil?

Which leads me to the MVP of the film, Dennis Haysbert, who not only has as much of an awesome screen presence as say Morgan Freeman, but is also the only male character in the film who isn’t a sexist, misogynist, evil dude-bro like the rest of the male characters; offering at least a little bit of representation for the “real” men that do exist. Aspiring screenwriters, take note! 

Despite this annoying narrative aspect, Send Help is a fantastic film that tackles so many real-world issues wrapped up in a neat story about survival, strength, and the importance of reevaluation. If you can handle the occasional gross-out moments, of which there aren’t too many, then please give this film a shot. It’s a silly little horror-ish film that has a lot to say, and it deserves your attention. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

The Rip - A Huge Waste of Your Time

Streaming on Netflix

        January is considered by the Hollywood system as the dumping ground: the time of year when not many people are likely to spend money at the movies, so they put out the things they have no faith in doing well at the box office. With that in mind, one would think that streaming services like Netflix would be immune to such a practice, since their revenue system doesn’t depend upon box office returns. However, as Netflix and other streaming platforms are slowly becoming the new Hollywood, it seems they are adapting the same annoying practices and habits that made people turn away from Tinsel Town in the first place. 

Today’s subject, The Rip, is a prime example of a dumping ground movie, along with being a massive disappointment, especially given the pedigree of everyone involved. You have a star-studded cast, an interesting idea for a story, and a talented director who deserves to be taken more seriously than he is. Sadly, despite all of those promising elements, The Rip is a repetitive,  dull, aimless, slog of a film with stock macho characters, adolescent dialogue, lazy action scenes, and probably the ugliest cinematography I have ever seen! And this was filmed on one of Sony’s best cameras! 

What passes for a story (inspired by true events) follows a group of Miami cops who specialize in hunting down Cartel stash houses and seizing their assets for evidence. One night, their leader receives a tip about a stash house worth a little over $100K. Once they enter the house and find the hidden stash, they discover it’s worth significantly more; as in enough to fear for their lives more. As they proceed with their duty, counting the cash on sight before handing it over to their superiors, some of the crew begin to question their partners motivations and actions, building up to an eventual showdown between Cartel enforcers, corrupt cops, and the struggle to maintain audience investment. Guess which one they loose first? 

On the surface, this sounds like a great idea for a film: you’ve got a group of people who have reasons to doubt each other handling a dangerous task in a confined space with a massive ticking clock over their heads, while contending with determining who is trustworthy, and rather or not any of their struggles are worth their lives. It’s a classic story about duty, corruption, temptation, and justice; one that has been done many times over and with better execution than this train wreck! 

The writing is on par with a teenage boy in a creative writing class trying to sound edgy by throwing in as many “F” bombs as possible; the characters, despite being brought to life by admittedly energetic performances, are one-dimensional with little to no texture to them; and the director, Joe Carnahan, seems to have left his skills at the door; the same guy who delivered amazing and entertaining action classics such as 2010’s The A-Team and The Grey. 

And then there’s the cinematography. Photographed by Juanmi Azpiroz, The Rip appears to have fallen into the same trap as many modern digitally captured movies: relying too much on the sensitivity of the camera sensor to recover details in dimly lit environments rather than properly lighting dark scenes. As a result, many of the shots in the film look as flat and bland as any other modern digitally captured film taking too much advantage of High Dynamic Range. This is not meant to imply that these technological advancements in cameras are terrible or impractical, not at all; merely that they are rarely (if ever) utilized properly in modern cinematic executions. 

Plus, I don’t know if this is because of the improper use of High Dynamic Range, or due to the extreme compression of streaming (likely both), but there were far too many instances of shots struggling to distinguish shadows from dimly lit skin tones, resulting in some kind of magical black sludge constantly appearing and vanishing on everyones heads. It just goes to prove that even films captured with the highest amount of data are still subject to the computers inability to calculate an images true black value; something that typically isn’t a problem with properly lit scenes. 

The Rip should have been so much better than it is! It’s disheartening to begin the new year with such a dull, lazy, mishandled mess of a film, especially since we’re already dealing with so many others in real life; they don’t need to invade our entertainment as well! While the film gains a few bonus points for having a relevant story and professional performances (mostly), nothing else here is worth anyones time. This is yet another piece of white noise to play in the background while folding laundry, just don’t play it if you have kids in the house. 

Skip this one entirely! 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading.