Alien: Covenant (2017) - I Have a Confession

It may have been a mistake making my first few posts 1000+ words all those years ago, because now I feel like I can't justifiably write and release an update if it isn't essay-length, and maybe if I hadn't set such a high precedent so early, maybe I would write here more often (if you hadn't noticed, I've already broken my one-a-month streak for the year). As it stands, I've basically set myself the task of writing additional essays in the free time between writing my college essays. Not exactly the best state of affairs, so I think I'm gonna start writing smaller posts like this, and maybe not get quite so caught up with adhering to some kind of imagined word count. This is my blog, after all.

Oh look, a one-hundred-and-thirty-word intro before we even get to the main content. That's probably how I keep reaching such astronomical word counts. Anyway, I've decided today I'm going to briefly talk about Alien: Covenant, the latest instalment of the, now rather qualitatively lop-sided, Alien franchise. I'll give a quick sum-up of my thoughts like a review, but ultimately I'm here to confess a sin, for I feel I have somehow dishonoured myself and wasn't sure what other platform to confess on (I'm sure as hell not going to a church).

So, Alien: Covenant. After Prometheus was released five years ago (it's been five years? Jeez...), being explicitly pitched by director Ridley Scott as not being a prequel to Alien, many fans were disappointed when it turned out Prometheus really wasn't a direct prequel to Alien. I know, shock horror (although I may have been one of those guys). My issue was the ending seemed to be setting up practically a direct explanation for the crashed ship in Alien, then curve-balled at the last moment for no real reason. So now, to make more money, er, I mean, to try and bridge the narrative gap between Prometheus and Alien, Ridley Scott has released Alien: Covenant, the first of two sequels to Prometheus.

Overall, the film isn't great. I was definitely entertained when I was experiencing it, but once I was out of the cinema and I really started thinking about it, my opinion worsened. I think the worst part of the film is its characters: we're introduced to a crew of fifteen, of which only two are 'characterised' enough for you to even know their names. In fact, half of the crew are killed in the space of about five minutes barely a quarter of the way into the film. Not only are the crew made out to be insultingly disposable, they're also complete and total morons. Now, I know there's a bit of a trope in horror films of the main characters having recently suffered some kind of lobotomy, and even the crew of the original Alien had moments of poor decision making, but Covenant is on some other level of imbecility. Here are just some of the stupid things some of the Covenant crew do in this film;

• A man kicks some alien plant, and sticks his face right up to it and takes a big ol' whiff of the pollen-like stuff that it releases. He gives birth to an alien.
• A woman, who's already seen that the planet is full of hostile aliens, goes off on her own for a bit. An alien joins her.
• A man allows an obviously evil android to lead him down to a dark cellar filled with eggs. Upon enquiring about said eggs, the android suggests he should put his face near one, and HE ACTUALLY DOES IT.

The other big problem for me was the special effects; specifically, the alien creatures. None of the creatures seen in this film look even remotely real or like they're in the scene with the characters. CG has come far enough now that this frankly shouldn't be an issue anymore. Now, I know special effects aren't everything, but in a horror film (especially one like this with less-than Shakespearean writing), the believability of effects, especially creature effects, is a massive part of it, because if your film can't convince me that your monster is there, then I will not be scared of your monster and will not feel scared for your characters (especially when they're all such ignoramuses). As it is, the aliens in this film move a bit too fast, are in the light too much and look like they were rendered for a video game.

Ultimately, if you liked Prometheus, you'll probably get something out of this, but if you're not as invested in the franchise, you're not really missing a whole lot. But now, time for the main course. My great confession. The actual reason behind me writing this post. And, just as a warning, I will be discussing Spoilers for Alien: Covenant, so skip to the end if you haven't seen it and care.

So we have two identical androids, Walter and David, one good, one evil, both played by Michael Fassbender (side note: what purpose did that kiss actually serve, outside of just "ooh, look what we can do with the power of technology!"). As the surviving members of the Covenant crew leave the temple, David and Walter are fighting, yet we don't see the outcome, later seeing Walter meet up with the crew and escape with them. But right at the end of the film, Walter reveals himself, just as protagonist Daniels enters hypersleep, to actually be David, and he proceeds to place two facehugger embryos in with the colonists. What a twist.

Now. Apparently, it's blindingly obvious from as far back as the fight scene that David was going to switch places with Walter, and most people I've seen reviews from talk about how insultingly predictable this is. (You may see where this is going)

So, here's my confession: I didn't realise. Usually, I'm great at noticing and predicting these kinds of plot elements, considering how often I write my own stories and how familiar I 've become with traditional Hollywood plot devices, but this one flew completely under my radar.

But wait, it gets worse.

Not only did I not pick up on this switcheroo, one of the most cliched twists of all time, I was still oblivious during the reveal. Yes, even as the android revealed himself to Daniels, and even when he was planting the embryos, I still didn't catch on. I still thought it was Walter, albeit a newly evilised Walter.

It wasn't unitl I was discussing the film with my best friend, several days later, where he mentioned how obvious that scene was that, after a slight confusion, I finally realised what had happened.
So not only was I caught out by the oldest twist in the book, but I'm so unperceptive as to not even realise the twist when the twist was revealed. And I don't even know what to think of myself anymore.

End of Spoilers

Well, now I've soiled any credibility I had as a film reviewer (certainly as a writer), I guess that's as good a place as any to leave off. This has been therapeutic, I feel like a great weight has been lifted. And who else to trust with my deepest darkest secret* than my readership, comprised of strangers on the Internet? You won't make me some kind of laughing stock, right guys?

Guys?

Alien: Covenant - 2017 - Ridley Scott - USA
Score: 6
Recommendation: Medium


*not actually my deepest darkest secret

EDIT: I've since realised this post has managed to exceed 1000 words, despite what I said in the beginning. Maybe there's some weird curse that prevents me from writing less.

Critical Thinking: A Brief Defence of Criticism

There seems to be a major issue right now in regards to how the public understands and views criticism, both in its intent and in how it reflects on the critic's opinion. It's something that's been bothering me for a little while now, and an exchange I had last year brought it back to my attention, highlighting just how much of a stigma there seems to be towards criticism in the general consciousness. Thus, I thought it was time I finally put it down in writing.

So back in September of last year, my dad and I were driving home from a professional production of Little Shop of Horrors, probably my favourite musical and one that I'm very familiar with, especially since I'd been involved in an amateur production of it earlier that year (not to mention I've seen the film and listened to the soundtrack hundreds of times). My dad asked me what I thought of the production, and I mentioned that I was a bit disappointed with some of the characterisations, which I felt didn't fully capture who each character really was and what they were supposed to represent in regards to the story and its themes.

Annoyed, my dad asked me why I always had to critically dissect everything I watched and couldn't just simply enjoy things like other people do. It took me off guard at the time (not least of all because I hadn't even said at this point whether I'd enjoyed the production, which I did for the record), even though my parents have made exclamations of this nature in the past. I didn't really know what to say, so I left the silence to awkwardly hang instead, but now I want to put this irritating question to bed once and for all.

Criticism is not a negative practice. No media or work of art is ever truly objectively perfect; in fact, the very definition of art as an expression of human creativity roots all art in the realm of subjectivity. Thereby, with all the billions of people on the planet and all their different tastes and worldviews, it's pretty much impossible for any intellectual property to please absolutely everyone in all its aspects: someone somewhere will find something they didn't like. Which is awesome: one of the great things about art is that 'water cooler' quality which encourages discussion and gets people comparing their experiences with the piece, even criticising some of the imperfections they noticed. For example, have you ever walked out of a cinema with a friend and had a discussion about a lazy plot point or maybe an off performance? Most likely, but did that little round of criticism mean you didn't like the film?

Of course not (well, depends on the film obviously). Just because you can criticise a work doesn't mean you don't like it: criticising and disliking are two different things. Even films I love have really noticeable flaws (Blade Runner, for example, has mostly quite sub-par acting and the pacing/plot structure is a mess), yet I can still see through those flaws and enjoy other aspects of the film (back to Blade Runner, I love it for its excellent world building, visuals and audio design). Obviously I'm not saying you should just flat out ignore a film's flaws, quite the opposite actually, but you should be able to take any film, even ones you love, and weigh up what works and doesn't work, whilst still being able to enjoy it. Considering no film is truly perfect, every film from Citizen Kane down to The Room has at least a few things that can be criticised, but both these films can still be (somewhat) enjoyed for different reasons, despite or even because of its flaws. Criticism can even help you discover what it is that you like about your favourite films, even if that is by eliminating what you don't enjoy.

In this repsect, criticism is an essential part of life, especially in the creative industries, for without criticism nothing will ever get better. Say we have two people, Gary and Jeff. Gary makes a film or a painting or a song and shows his work to Jeff. Now, Jeff could just say "Yeah Gary, really good. Top notch" and Gary would then go on to create more films or paintings or songs, without ever really coming to understand his strengths and weaknesses, even getting progressively worse, as he takes riskier creative decisions with the safety that Jeff will always love what he makes.

Or, alternatively, Jeff could say "Not bad, Gary, but I think you could maybe work on this, this and this.", at which point Gary now has some feedback he can actually work on, and the next time he makes something, he can use this advice to try and improve his work, and thus make greater art for everyone.

Unfortunately, there seems to be some kind of stigma attached to criticism nowadays, since somewhere along the line, criticism has become synonymous with hatred. Now, obviously there's two sides to this coin. For example, the internet is full of hyper-critical entertainment shows such as the Angry Video Game Nerd, Nostalgia Critic, Zero Punctuation and CinemaSins to name a few, and a lot of more casual audiences have come to regard these shows as the face of criticism, despite the fact these are all entertainment shows. Now, it's not like these shows aren't truthful in their criticisms, but positives are reduced and negatives exaggerated for the sake of comedic effect, and reviews of these nature are not intended to be taken completely seriously. CinemasSins specifically has become a bit of a bugbear lately, since as entertaining as it used to be (yeah, I said it), I know people who think that their deliberately nitpicky form of criticism is a legit review of the film in question, and that these are indicative of quality.

Due to this stigma, it's becoming more and more difficult to criticise work, especially that of friends. As you'd expect, I have a lot of creative friends and it seems so difficult to tell people what you really think about their output just out of fear that they might take your well-intended criticism as an attack.

And please don't think I'm somehow above all this criticism; I've heard the argument before of "How would you like it if someone criticised your work?" and to the people who seem to believe this is an actual retaliation, I say please do. No, seriously, I invite you, nay, implore you to go check out my work and criticise the shit out of it. I am so tired of friends and family members telling me my films are great, either unwilling or unable to point out all the many flaws,  and I'm itching for a fresh view on my efforts to see what actually works and doesn't. As long as your criticism is constructive/helpful, valid (i.e. not an incredibly petty nitpick or flat-out falsehood) and presented in a pleasant manner, it will always be welcome here, as it should anywhere else.

So in answer to the original question, this is why I criticise: because if I didn't, I would not be doing my duty as a viewer.

Oscar Results 2017

Foreword: One year, these Oscar posts are going to have a consistent format. 2017 is not that year. Apologies if this upsets you for whatever reason.

Updated Viewing
So since my previous post a month ago, I have seen a further two films from the Oscars roster, and I feel the most appropriate thing to do format-wise would be to give each of these a mini-review before diving into the results.

First up, Hacksaw Ridge. Starting off, this felt like a pretty standard, run-of-the-mill war drama (you know: small rural village, young lad wants to fight the war, ripping off the first half of Full Metal Jacket). But once the plot moves to the titular Japanese battleground, things really pick up. Honestly, these are some of the best action scenes I've seen in any war film: on par with, if not better than, the opening of Saving Private Ryan. It's utterly brutal, but this second half is where the film's strengths truly lie, and it even becomes pretty inspirational. Definitely worth a watch, as long as you don't let its slower first half put you off. It can be quite difficult to stomach at times; partially because of the graphic injury detail and partially because of the couple noisily making out and talking throughout most of the first half in the cinema I was at. Seriously, even the most vaguely romantic moment seemed to set them off. Who goes to see a gritty WWII film for a romantic liaison?! Otherwise, I'd strongly recommend a cinematic viewing, provided it's still playing. 8/10, High Recommendation

Secondly, Moonlight. And before I go any further, why is this film such a ball ache to see in the cinema? My regular cinema up here was explicitly advertising it all over their lobby, yet come release day (which apparently was the 17th) and it's nowhere to be seen on their timetable, or any timetable for that matter. I was only able to see this film because the Vue spontaneously decided to show it on Saturday with only about a day or so of warning. Come on, guys. This is one of the highest rated best picture candidates and we're in the height of award season. Why hasn't this seen a proper wide release yet? Instead, the cinemas are currently dominated by other important and wholesome films like, to pick a completely random example, Fifty Shades Darker?

Why are you telling the film-going public that a piece of Hollywood trash that glorifies abusive relationships and misrepresents an already misunderstood sexual community is more worthy of their time and attention than an indie film that explores issues of sexuality and race, addressing and representing two neglected minority groups in traditional cinema simultaneously and providing them with a much-needed voice? What the fuck kind of message are film distributors trying to set?!

But I digress.

Moonlight was certainly an interesting viewing, although I think my experience of it was maligned slightly by the unreasonably high expectations set for me by the 99 metascore and the overwhelming amount of gushing from the Letterboxd community. It follows the story of a black boy as he struggles through the three stages of growing up, dealing with an abusive mother, bullying, and his own sense of identity and sexuality. It's a reasonably quiet and reflective film, surprisingly more lax than I was expecting, but I wonder if that may, in fact, be its weakness. The narrative conflicts never seem to completely justify the entire film: it feels like an array of B-stories, and I was left waiting for a great big A-story that would provide the biggest conflict for our protagonist to overcome, but there doesn't really seem to be one. Now, that may have been an artistic decision, and fair enough if it was, but it does mean this film isn't quite as engaging or satisfying as I feel it could be. For this, I am going to give it a slightly lower score, but I feel this film's very existence seems to be its own reward (something I'll explain in a little more detail later), so I still highly value it as the milestone in cinematic representation that it is. 7/10, High Recommendation

And now, the Oscars.

Best Animated Feature
So Zootopia did win, as I expected. I still haven't managed to see Kubo and the Two Strings so I can't really comment properly on it, but despite how much I liked Zootopia, it would be cool if Kubo got it: just for the sake of saving the dying art that is stop-motion animation, as well as for not giving it to the Disney-affiliated property all the time. I'm kinda getting tired of how predictable this category ends up being.

Best Makeup & Hairstyling
I just wanted to note that Suicide Squad is now officially an Oscar-winning film. Suicide Squad has won an Oscar. "The award-winning Suicide Squad". A sentence about as absurd as "The moon is covered in jam" or "Donald Trump is the President of the United States"

Best Costume Design
Despite the cavalcade of awards going to La La Land, I do feel like this was one it also should have received. Mia's varying array of coloured dresses throughout the film were a central part of the film's aesthetic, and one of the most memorable visual elements. Fantastic Beasts on the other hand, seemed pretty standard for a period piece. At least the Harry Potter franchise finally has an Oscar. I guess.

La La Land
Speaking of La La Land, I think it might be easier with this format to just talk about all of its Oscars in one go. I was proud to see Damien Chazelle win for directing and Emma Stone for actressing. I'm also glad for the cinematography win, although I did really enjoy Moonlight's as well. In terms of music, this seemed like a no-brainer, and I did really enjoy La La Land's musical numbers (my fave is 'Another Day of Sun'), and despite it depriving Lin-Manuel Miranda of being the youngest person to complete the EGOT, I am still happy to see it win. One thing, production design. As cool as La La Land's production design was, I'm not sure if it was the best one of the nominees. I actually may have gone with Passengers in all honesty.

So maybe La La Land didn't quite sweep the technicals, but it cleaned up pretty well, even if it did miss the top spot...

...Best Picture
Well, what can I say? I don't think anyone can deny it was close this year, after what will probably go down in history as one of the most memorable and talked-about Oscar gaffes. For those who haven't heard, this is the shocking moment when after La La Land was declared Best Picture, the producer's acceptance speech had to be cut short to reveal that someone had screwed up, and Moonlight was the real Best Picture. Firstly, as memorable as this moment was, I can't even fathom how embarrassing this must have been for the hosts, and while they were great sports about it, it must have been a downer for the La La Land team (not that they hadn't had lots of other successes that night), I mean, how often does someone get an award as prestigious as an Oscar only to have it all be a big misunderstanding and having to hand it over to someone else. All I can think is thank god it didn't happen to an individual, especially for an acting award.

But hey, when I said it was going to be close between La La Land and Moonlight, I wasn't wrong, was I? And this did result in one of my favourite Oscar tweets, from M. Night Shyamalan claiming to have written the twist ending of the Academy Awards. But put all that aside and let's look at Moonlight as the Best Picture winner. Personally, whilst I liked La La Land a lot more, I think Moonlight is the more deserving winner, if not only for it being a milestone in cinematic representation of minority groups, something that I imagine this film will be long remembered for as the start of what will hopefully be a long line of films concerning lesser represented groups. See, despite what I was saying earlier about the narrative and engagement of Moonlight, I don't think those kind of criticisms are even particularly relevant when discussing whether this film deserves a Best Picture nod. And I'm not saying this film, nor any other, is excluded from criticism, but that to focus on the storytelling aspects and other critical elements in this case would be to miss the main point of why this film deserves Best Picture. Because it represents a step forward for equality: the most revered film institute possibly in the world has honoured Moonlight, an indie feature about representation of minority groups, with one of their highest awards, instead of, say, La La Land, a film with a mostly white cast that reminisces about the golden age of Hollywood. It's about looking to the future of a more diverse cinematic landscape, rather than focusing on the traditional white-washed western cinema of the past.

Or maybe I'm just reading too much into it.

Either way, that wraps up another year of Oscars. As a challenge, I'm going to try and do one post per month this year, so hopefully I shall return at the end of March with a good ol' discussion of a rather misunderstood, yet vital concept to the viewing of cinema. See you then.