A protagonist with excellent aesthetic (turtle neck short sleeves and dungarees)
Anna moves from Sapporo to her relatives to convalesce – a concept that we really should bring back – and finds herself feeling like a foreigner. Partly because she's an outsider in the small town, partly because of her isolation from everyone else, and partly from an insignificant physical feature which doesn't disadvantage her in any other way. It's a bit thin.
Gorgeous scenery, slightly odd fantasy times and I went to “imaginary friend” quite quickly... tho they almost retcon it in at the end.
about 20 minutes in and I've clocked the premise of this movie because I have watched far too much Doctor Who and this is like the key premise of multiple episodes
In fairness it is pretty fast paced, and at least has some kind of twist (which was initially pretty daft), and the “kids in sticky situations” interaction could have been worse.
whether time flies or not while you're watching this... your mileage may vary
this isn't so much a review as it is Reasons Why This is Ideal Comfort Watching
If the object belongs to a relative or friend, the team (either the host or the craftspeople themselves) always ask the loved one's name and remember it later. And they always say “thank you for trusting us with it”
The care they take with paintings/toys/sculptures/instruments etc has a big similarity to work. People trust us in times of great vulnerability – we do drastic things sometimes – and we always hope they come out better than the person who came in.
A woman befriends a couple of teenagers, but this quickly turns into a deadly obsession.
So I was excited when I saw Octavia Spencer was in this. But the climax which reveals Ma's motivation fell flat. With an almost naive
Parts of the storyline just hang a bit loose. It's the story of the evil Black woman in a nice white town, and I don't even think this is too spoilery. There are truly bizarre torture scenes which are nonsensical rather than terrifying.
Same as the novel, the Creed family moves house, where they discover a burial ground near the house with a secret.
The same human urges: abhorring death and clinging to life, exceptionalism (“it won't happen to me”, “it'll be different this time”)
Pet Semetary treads very well-established ground for King stories. The conduit of evil is the American, white, middle-class man with repressed emotions and a Troubled Past; horror is tied up with disability*; an overwrought ending.
I enjoyed reading the book, but seeing it in movie format makes it lose a little of its shine.
SPOILERS BELOW THIS CUT
—
In particular, one of the characters' driving source of fear centers around her disabled, bedbound relative. But it's not so much about her guilt for wanting that relative dead – although that was explicitly stated – it focused more on the physical aspect. A scene leading to the climax has that character seeing herself become that relative. The creators of this film used physical disability as shorthand for horror and “unlife” – as with “undead” – and that is unacceptable.
The Brigadier has been brought to the newest state of the United States, Malebolgia, to offer support in nation-building and that sort of thing. The Doctor is stranded, sans memory, in a revolutionary new institution.
Clocking in at just over 2 hours, Minuet in Hell has the scope of a novel. There is a distinct Torchwood vibe, especially with the whole “mysterious medical institution” business. Instead of Torchwood, it's the Brig who is the symbol of order and authority. I've not previously encountered stories where he's taken on such an independent, investigative role, and it's fun to see.
The story does gloss over the hallmarks of a cult and goes straight into demon summoning and psychological experiments. Many of the baddie-adjacent characters are also larger than life and written stereotypically American. Even the main baddie is almost comical, with the number of one-liners and cheesy lines. While it is a terribly effective foil to the familiar characters, it's hard to reconcile this with the down to earth Brig – particularly why he wouldn't be more cynical.
In any case, I always enjoy the Brig's appearances. Similar to Lestrade in the Sherlock Holmes stories, he is at once the exhausted leader forever catching up with the brilliant protagonist and the symbol of establishment trying to do things right. And that, my friends, is a huge mood for these times.
House of Silents follows on from the events of Season 6 – a generation later in-universe, so perhaps a decade or so later. This time we see it from the perspective of UNIT, with Osgood and Kate Stewart taking center stage. This story delves into the nature of the Silents, casting them as an intelligent species driven to desperation, but this chapter of the story offers no resolution, only buying time.
I've always been fascinated by the psychotropic effects of the Silents. For those who don't know (or have forgotten…), the Silents were humanoid creatures, always sharply dressed for some reason, who erase themselves from human working memory. Turn around, and you'll ever forget you saw it. In this story, though, they almost seem like… stray cats (!). While they seem slightly robbed of their fearsomeness here, it doesn't take too much away from the action.
Nevertheless, I enjoy the UNIT stories, especially the dynamic between Kate Stewart and Osgood; a monster so inextricably linked with UNIT is naturally the best way to explore those relationships.
Captain Jack Harkness (John Barrowman) from the Doctor Who universe gets his own highlight with his underground investigative unit, Torchwood (named for Doctor Who S02E02, Tooth and Claw). Police Constable Gwen Cooper (Eve Myles) stumbles across them in the pilot, and ends up joining them.
The characters in the team fit neatly into archetypes. Owen is the slightly arrogant, brash one; Toshiko is studious, Asian and good with computers; Ianto is Nice. Gwen Cooper is, I suppose, the emotional heart, but it's hard to tell. She is a little like Jenny Lee in the first season of Call the Midwife – no obvious archetype, always a little more emotionally involved than anyone else.
The stories in each episode are decent, even through the filter of 14-year-old visual effects. It doesn't have the wild inventiveness and imagined technological universes of Doctor Who, which is a pity as they had the scope for it – it is meant to be a collection of the brightest scientists and “operatives” (whatever that means) after all. Harkness tends to be the lynchpin. Dashing, conventionally handsome and flirty with absolutely anyone and possibly anything, he gives the group and indeed the stories some momentum.