Tharidi Walimunige21 May 2018
Director Travis Knight’s comedic and heartfelt take on Bumblebee’s origin story is a breath of fresh air in a franchise known for excessive explosions and a lack of emotional resonance.
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is like no other animated or superhero film around. It’s a visual spectacle full of witty one-liners, weird and wonderful characters, and a whole lot of heart, all accompanied by a head-bopping soundtrack.
The night was sweltering, despite all the jingles. Snow was a laughable concept for this part of the globe. A white Christmas even more so. Handcrafted snowflakes in windows were a poor substitute, but this festive season brought out a desperation like no other. Harry made himself comfortable on the roof, keeping his swinging legs from hitting the gutter. It was imperative that his hiding spot wasn’t compromised, for his opponent had been in the game long enough to prove a worthy challenge.
This story ends with a girl whose hair is too long for her liking. Seven new songs, unwashed swimmers, and a pair of luggage tags for the flight home tomorrow. She has a lump in her throat that’s been there for two months. Everything’s tasted bitter since September.
Don’t get me wrong, he still kills and maims in glorious fashion, it’s just that in his downtime, you’ll see him providing a running commentary on Eddie’s love life and loser status. Another impression of the symbiote you’ll likely have by the end of the film? Venom embodies that one bro who goads you into doing stupid shit. All of this amounts to a portrayal of the symbiote that I was pleasantly surprised by. He’s an enjoyable character to watch in his own right and his likability isn’t contingent on the traits of his host. Avoiding painting Venom as an all-consuming mass that takes away its host’s agency, the film instead gives you a more buddy-cop dynamic between symbiote and host, where the two banter, argue and learn off each other. This results in one of the film’s greatest strengths: getting you to root for a jacked-up alien with entirely too many teeth and a habit of eating human heads.
“Okay, it’s fine. It’s Macca’s, they won’t question my order…uh, hi. Can I get three-hundred and sixty nuggets?”
After an exhaustive experience being the painfully uninterested tag-along to my sister’s shopping spree at both Sephora and Mecca Maxima, Melbourne Central’s pre-release event for Hotel Transylvania 3 was upon us.
Long ago, Snow White’s ancestors invaded a beautiful, sunny land. There she lived in the Queen’s care. The Queen asked her magic mirror, “Who is the fairest in the land?”
It replied, “If you mean fair as in pale, it’s Snow White. But don’t hold yourself to the beauty standards of your oppressors. Love yourself.”
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