Not exact matches
It's instantly clear that Howard, along with returning screenwriter David Koepp, has learned nothing from the relative failure
of both The Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons, as Inferno, for the most
part, chugs along at a lackadaisical pace that's compounded by an overlong running time and surfeit
of underwhelming
subplots.
And although the movie admittedly does grow more and more entertaining as Will makes his way to a posh, exclusive
part of town, In Time is, in its second half, saddled with an increasingly stagnant vibe that's compounded by an emphasis on underwhelming
subplots (eg the continuing exploits
of several time thieves).
There are
subplots that are suddenly dropped, characters that don't fulfill their potential, and just moments
of utter stupidity that counteract the hillarious
parts.
All the while, a frantic Ford is working a case involving land developer «Lew the Jew» (Adam Goldberg), whose deal is being scuppered by a mysterious graffiti artist painting X-rated murals
of the real estate tycoon (a
subplot as puerile as it sounds, though undeniably funny in
parts).
Part of the movie focuses on abuse and the cycles
of violence it can create, but it's treated with the same clunkiness as the supposedly - comic romantic
subplot that sees sidekick characters, played by Whannell and Angus Sampson, hitting on a couple
of much younger women.
I also attribute
part of this to having a variety
of subplots that come into play.
A substantial
part of the mercifully brief 82 minute running time is taken up by a
subplot of personal redemption involving characters played by Woody Harrelson and the wonderful Maura Tierney.
While the key to the episode is a huge Griffin Muppet animated, in
part, by Henson's son Brian, the humour
of its spoiled prissiness is offset by a melancholy
subplot involving a doomed ferryman played with convincing dourness by veteran character actor Robert Eddison.
Although the overarching plot involves the conquest
of Thor's native Asgard by Hela, the goddess
of death, Thor actually spends the bulk
of the film in a comic
subplot involving a gladiator planet ruled by an alien overlord played by Jeff Goldblum at his Goldblummiest: equal
parts twitchy, smug, and louche.
The film often points out that it knows some
of this is silly, but that it also knows the audience will just love being
part of the return
of some
of the characters and
subplots.
We've got much more piss your pants one liners and forth wall breaking tomfoolery from Wade, it's sweet sensitive and extremely emotional in
parts (not since the finale
of T2 have I sobbed so much), the OTT action and gore makes a hatchet fight in a Butcher shop look clean in comparison with moments to make hardcore Gore - Geeks give a huge hooray, the cringe worthy «oh no he didn't» moments are rife, there's a touching
subplot about what it really means to be Family and also we are treated to an array
of colorful supporting characters including an excellent turn from Josh Brolin as futuristic super soldier «Cable», a wonderful performance from upcoming young talented star Julian Dennison (hunt for the wilder people), the obligatory Hugh Jackman cameo and a mega hard Super Villain who makes his previous onscreen incarnation seem like Vinny Jones in a giant penis suit... Oh wait!
A big aspect
of the film relies too much on a random coincidence which is always a pet peeve
of mine, leading to a
subplot that could have been removed without any narrative consequence, but at the same time it's this
part of The Drop that gives it a tender heart which allows for a deeper emotional meaning.
God's Pocket wants to be from the same school
of dark comedy that the likes
of the Coen Brothers or Spike Jonze do so well but Slattery can't pinpoint a focus on a film that is filled with too many
subplots and bit
part players that just don't get enough to do in the picture.
A small
part by Alan Alda, as the original Elysium founder plays out pleasingly, and it is his character Carvin that holds the deed to the farm, offering the story its silly
subplot about a big corporation trying to buy out Elysium to build a casino, which at one point has Linda running topless (with others) in front
of a television camera.
True, the whole romance angle isn't there, but it's kind
of added in later by the Preminger / Wallach versions, both
of whom have a romantic
subplot as
part of their stories.
Part of the blame is on the Coen Brothers» writing, because the script feels like a solid first draft that still needed rewrites to conclude which
subplots should remain in the final cut.
A
subplot involving a police investigation is the weakest
part of the film, but regardless, We Are Who We Are remains an impressive debut.
There's also a fairly needless
subplot involving a TSA agent, played by LilRel Howery, who dual - functions as an exposition delivery system and a tension - breaking comic - relief sidekick; it's the only
part of the movie that betrays Peele's sketch - comedy roots, plainly visible in his script for last year's Keanu.
With the ensemble cast growing — even more from the first film — my one complaint lies in the fact that some characters are shoved aside for a large
part of the flick, with only minimal
subplots.
A
subplot involving a duo
of vicious schoolgirls who want to kill Joe because he caught them stealing candy is incredibly stupid, while the so - called «murder tourists» — foreigners who have traveled to the U.S. on Purge Night to take
part in the annual event — are visually striking in their twisted American history getups (the light - up Lady Liberty is the standout) but aren't given enough time to truly make a mark.
Subplots about the Turks recruited to help rebuild Berlin and the ignored danger to women in all
parts of the city add complexity to an already difficult, seldom written about time in the world's history.
If you have
subplots going nowhere, scenes that advance nothing or characters that fail to come alive; if
parts of your story are told in the wrong sequence, you've begun it too early or dragged on the ending too long: a structural editor will pick that up.
Whether it's the main plot or a
subplot, I can guarantee it's almost always my favorite
part of any given book.
In two
of the best works here — Fight in an Elevator, which looks
part Harlem Renaissance and
part Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and the square - looking but not - square Slow Motion Shower — Schutz forces two
of painting's major formal
subplots to the fore.