I_Ailurophile

Between the music and select iconic imagery, this is certainly a picture that one is likely to gain some secondary awareness of before specifically watching it. Being set and largely filmed in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, the latter holds true even if, say, one has lived in or around Pittsburgh all their life. Furthermore, many noteworthy figures contributed here in one capacity or another, including not just star Jennifer Beals and producer Jerry Bruckheimer but also composer Giorgio Moroder (he behind the great score for one of my favorite movies, 1982's 'Cat people'), and this is a title that has very much earned cult status over time. Still, even with its tried and true story of a young steelworker aspiring to make it as a dancer, the question remains: how does 'Flashdance' hold up all these years later, not least as a feature from a decade which has seen many contemporaries age poorly? I think we can begin to form an impression right away, and while this isn't something one needs to rush out to see, it remains fairly enjoyable - with the caveat that there is a clear divide between its greatest strengths and its sorest weaknesses.

I don't think there can be much arguing that the music is a delight, from the catchy popular songs on hand, to the classical selections that fill select corners of the soundtrack, to Moroder's lovely original score that builds off of motifs from famous theme song "Flashdance... what a feeling." Part and parcel with that music but even more to the point, all the choreography is tantalizing, infectious, and invigorating, whatever its context - from the routines, training, and rehearsals of protagonist Alex and others, to glimpses of street dancing, figure skating, and more. Such sequences are absolutely a tremendous credit to the uncredited dancers and body doubles, including Marine Jahan, but let's not count out Donald Peterman's sharp cinematography, the keen editing of Walt Mulconery and Bud Smith, and superb, tasteful lighting. If one has any appreciation at all for the performing arts then this flick is a treasure trove, and this is to say nothing of marvelous production design and art direction, costume design, hair, and makeup. I admire the earnest performances of the cast, and between Tom Hedley and fellow screenwriter Joe Eszterhas there is solid material in the screenplay: drama and romance, bits of humor, and some nice scene writing to round out the story of working stiffs trying to both get by and achieve their dreams despite the obstacles they face.

That's not to say that there aren't also deep problems across these 100 minutes. It has cult status now, but this was also reviled by critics upon release, most infamously by Roger Ebert, and that harsh reception is not without merit. For every odd and end that earns praise, there is another that inspires a quizzical, skeptical raised eyebrow. A lot of the acting is splendid; some instances are terribly false and empty. Some of the humor is very clever, and other examples fall flat. Some dialogue is achingly weak, and some scene writing, too, not least instances that gracelessly fall back on hollow tropes. Even those dance sequences that are so terrific aren't without low points, including a bizarre, self-indulgent routine (with matching costuming and makeup) that begins with a television and ends with the sort of flashing strobe lights that may pose genuine risk for photosensitive viewers. There are also times when the film pointlessly and somewhat lasciviously lingers on women's bodies. On top of everything else, the narrative is weirdly loose, and treated indifferently, as it saunters a bit aimlessly toward the eventual conclusion. Amidst that insouciance, some beats are downright confounding, making one say "you've GOT to be kidding me," and the worst examples of dialogue and scene writing don't help matters.

At its best 'Flashdance' is fun, enchanting, and even inspiring, a modern classic. At its worst it's vapid, and fully deserving of all the barbs aimed in its direction. Some elements ride the line of being smart and bearing potential but fall short, and fail to realize that potential, whether through forced pacing or editing or just weak writing. And so on, and so on. On the balance I like this movie, and I find it quite worthwhile, but there are unmistakable follies along the way, and there's nearly a 50-50 split between those facets that were approached with all due care, and those that were not. It both feels longer than it should be, given its flaws, and shorter than it should have been had the material been conceived and realized appropriately. When all is said and done I'm glad I took the chance to watch, as for better or worse this has a place in our culture - and represents a corner of our culture - that to some degree arguably demands consideration. I just wish there weren't such a clear disparity between its highest qualities and its lowest ones. So long as a picture like that is something one can get on board with, I'm glad to give 'Flashdance' my soft but warm recommendation.

I like Rebecca Hall, and young Kaylee Hottle. I think they give fine performances under the circumstances, and they also benefit from what is surely the best character writing on hand. Select moments across these two hours are notably bright, including one bit of humor that really did earn a laugh. There are solid ideas in the plot, drawing together the biggest and most famous monsters in cinema, a mutual enemy, and human-driven story threads. Elements of the plot distinctly recall the Showa era of Toho's Godzilla franchise, and as that mutual enemy receives a major twenty-first century facelift, I unabashedly love the new design, as well as the design of other creatures that we see in passing throughout. I'll go a step further and say that the backgrounds we see at any time are gorgeous, even if some tend toward plain self-indulgence. There was real potential here, and it's worth noting as an aside that Toho's nearest point of comparison, 1962's 'King Kong vs. Godzilla,' was unexpectedly good, and one of the better titles in which either colossus has appeared.

Legendary's 'Godzilla vs. Kong,' however, does not count among those better titles. Actually, to my aghast astonishment, it floats at the bottom of the barrel in the Godzilla franchise (above 'Godzilla vs. Hedorah,' incredibly, but only by the width of a split hair). Even taking into account the existence of 1986's 'King Kong lives' and 2017's 'Kong: Skull Island,' this is easily the single worst entry in the King Kong franchise. I had mixed expectations based on the assumption of diminishing returns in the "Monsterverse" series, let alone the abysmal 'Skull Island,' but also recognizing the welcome high quality of 2019's 'Godzilla: King of the monsters' that was superior even to its fairly satisfying 2014 predecessor. And still this 2021 release is flat-out rotten, floundering from the very beginning. With fleetingly rare exception there is just no value to be had here - nothing that we can't get elsewhere - and the line between "rare" and "none" is so vanishingly small that it means nothing to just round down.

The driving ethos in this feature is one of empty, flashy spectacle, seen in brisk pacing, and in scenes that feel unnaturally forced; in aggravatingly on-the-nose dialogue and scene writing; in many singular shots of Kong or Godzilla; and even in instances of gaudy lens flare and tiresome, semi-ironic use of popular songs and humor. This, mind you, applies even to the opening scene, which made me hold my head in my hands, and it applies to the opening credits, which dubiously takes winking cues from sports culture in real life (yes, this was released in many places around the world in March) in setting the stage for the tableau to come. That ethos of empty, flashy spectacle is emphasized by whatever reading one may undertake of the production history: in his own words, filmmaker Adam Wingard (who?) is on record as saying his vision "basically started" with a sequence in which Slick And Cool aesthetics were very obviously the highest (and maybe only) priority.

The plot is treated very poorly, epitomized in the first scene with the character of Nathan Lind in which exposition is heedlessly vomited forth. The writing is astoundingly thin, flimsy, and wishy-washy about key ideas, nevermind aching heaps of Movie Magic and internal inconsistency, and egregious inconsistency relative even to prior Monsterverse films - some facets don't work or make sense except for that it's what the writers are forcing and what the plot requires - and some good ol' Plot Armor for characters who will survive anything to come their way. All of this tawdriness is reflected in story threads, scenes, characters, and dialogue alike, all of which also seem to have been pulled from the seediest, most ignorant, most unhinged and divorced from reality, and most dangerous parts of the modern Internet as conspiracy theories from the lips of RFK Jr.'s brain worm fill the script, and even tired, debunked talking points of toxic masculinity and misogynists. In the process, the script offers tacit validation to such wildly harmful fringe beliefs. Why, Millie Bobby Brown's character Maddie returns from 'King of the monsters,' but has lost all traces of whatever intelligence she was written with last time. In fact, the entire story thread with her character is unbelievable trash. As I watched with friends, we paused at one point because the writing was so insipid that we felt the need to get up and walk off our irritation. It was then that we discovered this was only 33 minutes in. I lost track of how many times I responded to something that happened on-screen with an exasperated, deadpan "Okay, sure."

The narrative is very self-obsessed with the increasing sci-fi whimsy of the Monsterverse series, here accentuated in the Hollow Earth among other aspects. The dialogue is sometimes simply tired and clichéd, as are various other ideas that are woven in; many other ideas of varying size are ripped straight from other sources, both fiction and non-fiction. Action scenes that are meant to excite instead elicit exhausted sighs, and the same holds true for moments intended for emotional response. Meanwhile, once again, modern computer-generated imagery is awful. I complimented creature designs and backgrounds, and I mean it, and other parts look gratifyingly good, too. Yet as ever, the more CGI is employed, the more it's relied upon, and the more we see of it, the worse it looks. In conjunction with that drive for empty, flashy spectacle, at times the picture is trying SO HARD to impress, oh dear gods please tell me dear audience that you're thrilled; this very much applies to the first encounter between the titular titans, and to my chagrin, their second encounter (the one Wingard claims is the foundation of his work) is even more gauche in its try-hard glitz. Kong is slightly redesigned from 'Skull Island' to be more fantastical, but the new version genuinely looks worse and more fake. Godzilla is robbed of prior detail. And so on, and so on.

Among all else, including terribly underwritten characters, Tom Holkenborg's original score is great in and of itself. Great, but misused, as the pacing, writing, and direction dampen whatever worth the music would add to the proceedings. Still, this consideration is far down the list of everything that's so flummoxing and bad about 'Godzilla vs. Kong.' If the story had been approached with all due mindful, thoughtful care in conception, development, and execution, this could have been a terrific movie. The possibilities are most certainly there; many notions at play are fine ingredients with which another superb blast of genre cinema could have been crafted. But that's just not what happened. I'm stunned by how wrong this went, noticeably even thumbing its nose at its antecedent in the most careless of ways. I can't imagine ever recommending this to a general audience; one has to have a very specific impetus, namely watching all King Kong and/or Godzilla films - and frankly, also be a masochist - to get anything out of the viewing experience. As far as I'm concerned 'Godzilla vs. Kong' belongs in the garbage dump of the medium, and most everyone who was creatively involved should be ashamed of themselves.

The best digital falsehood that artists sitting at a computer could ever conjure will very, very rarely hold a candle to real, dangerous stunts, practical effects, and tangible creations. It's part of why 1933's 'King Kong' remains the superlative rendition of the colossal ape; it's why sci-fi fare of the 1950s, with its highly variable quality, still often holds up while yesterday's superhero swill is already forgotten. The more that post-production visuals are relied upon, and the more we see of them, the worse they look and age; consider the sparing lightsabers and laser blasts in 1977's 'Star Wars' versus the uniformly shiny, sterile sheen in the 'Star Wars' prequels circa 2000. Nevertheless, "special effects" have proliferated in recent years while the real has faded from consideration for many filmmakers. Granted, there are significant difficulties (financial, logistical, technical, environmental) in producing real effects and stunts that the industry must reckon with - but the same is also true, if in a different way, of the servers required to power digital embellishments. And as we extend the same thoughts about this disparity between styles from individual movies to the wider medium, one arguable result is that today's filmmakers are somehow happy with a lesser product, the rapidly aging slop of the digital, as if they've given up on the ideal that everyone from Georges Méliès, to Francis Ford Coppola, to Jackie Chan had perfected over time and in their own ways. As everything from flashy effects, to backgrounds and cityscapes, to even touches of lighting and actors' faces receive the Zeroes And Ones treatment, the doing grows more and more tiresome. When it comes to production values in music, television, or cinema, to be frank, "perfect" really is the enemy of "good."

But we'll get back to that in a minute. It's safe to say that I harbored severe skepticism about this picture from the moment it was announced, let alone following tidbits that came out about it over time. Of the many people who participated in its creation, most if not all have some terrific credits to their name, and 'Raiders of the lost ark' and 'The last crusade' are essential classics. On the other hand, the last cinematic venture of Dr. Henry Jones, Jr., 2008's 'Kingdom of the crystal skull,' was rife with issues that dampened its fun and lasting value, not least a level of far-flung spectacle and new-age science fiction that exceeded the scope of the time-tested mix of the supernatural and occult and action-adventure that made even the lesser 'Temple of doom' such a blast. With Steven Spielberg and George Lucas stepping away to make room for James Mangold, and with Harrison Ford donning that well-worn fedora one last time more than forty years after the character debuted, could an action piece with a much older Indy defy the odds and my cynical expectations and be worthwhile? How is 'The dial of destiny,' actually? Happily, to my pleasant surprise, I actually think it's really good! There are definite troubles here that place upper limits on the title's lasting worth, but for as little as I assumed of it sights unseen, I'm very glad at how enjoyable it is.

I think we should talk about those definite troubles first, because in all earnestness they rankled me more than not from the very beginning, and it took a while to start to look past them as the minutes ticked by. There's a reason I harped on the digital wizardry first and foremost, because its extensive use here is decidedly regrettable. By all means, many, many sequences and elements are defined by what is real, from the filming locations and sets, to props, stunts, effects, and more, and it is most welcome. Yet the supposed development of digital techniques and technology over the years has seemingly led many filmmakers (or at least studios) to believe that because these can do anything, they should do everything. This feature amply demonstrates why that's not the case, however, for the heavy usage here is distinctly emptier than the carefully crafted splendor we saw in the previous works of the 80s. The long opening scene is full of that digital falsehood, the "de-aging" of Ford and Mads Mikkelsen is as artistically hollow as it is ethically dubious, most major (action) sequences likewise are retooled with computers, and even smaller touches like backgrounds and lighting are thus questionably "enhanced." There is a clear demarcation between those shots that were digitally tainted and those that were not - for those that were are an eyesore in their artifice, while those that were not, or which suffered that taint only to very subtle degrees, look outstanding. 'The dial of destiny' is a case study in how computer-generated imagery is failing the filmmakers who employ it.

That's the biggest issue facing this, but it's not the only one. There is also a modern sense of frenticism to too much action that's off-putting as it means scenes struggle to achieve all due impact, to say nothing of some bits that come off as overwrought "gosh golly!" spectacle for its own sake. The climax gets a bit messy as the writing team tries to resolve the conflict between the protagonist and the antagonists at the same time as they try to resolve the conflict within the protagonist himself, and to that same point, satisfying as the ending is, I don't think the groundwork was laid for it in the screenplay. Some dialogue is bad, some characters don't receive as much treatment as they should, the opening scene is longer than it should be - and taken together with the contrivances of CGI, there are some aspects in here that suggest not the sum total of the contributions of expert filmmakers, but a second-rate "action" videogame of very linear, by-the-books gameplay. Two and one-half hours is too long insomuch as the whole could have been tightened, but also too short in that some facets could (and maybe should) have been expanded upon.

If all this seems like a lot of criticism to follow my exclamation of "it's really good," however, it must be noted that far, far more than not, there is excellent substance to this film, and more than its immediate predecessor could claim. I have my critiques and I hold to them, yet in my book 'The dial of destiny' feels like the movie that 'Kingdom of the crystal skull' should have been. More pages could have been spent on Indy passing into old age and a world passing him by, but it was handled reasonably well all the same. More pages could have been spent rounding out select characters, including Voller, Teddy, and even Helena, yet we are nonetheless given reason to care about these figures, or to cheer against the scum who are the villains this time around. While I would wish for more stunts and practical effects over that mediocre CGI, the best instances of the latter (mostly the centerpiece of the climax) do look really sharp - and even with all this in mind, and the freneticism and spectacle, overall the action scenes are duly exciting. And I think this picture meaningfully achieves that blend that made audiences fall in love with 'Raiders' and 'Crusade' all those years ago: the action and adventure, yes, but also the quiet drama and personal interactions, the quick wit and bright humor, the solving of mysteries and riddles and puzzles, the big stakes and thrills, and the characters who exist on a spectrum from virtuous and friendly, to reprehensible and evil, and everywhere in between. Again, I hold to what harsh words I've laid down, yet as the length drew on, I was sincerely invested in the proceedings such that those concerns mostly fell away until the credits began rolling.

All throughout are faults big and small. All throughout, too, are joys big and small, and on the balance these far outweigh the latter. I think these joys also include the cast, for though I repeat that some characters' involvement is not handled so well, I cannot fault the cast for solid acting of range, nuance, physicality, and even occasional depth. My commendations to Phoebe Waller-Bridge, for in her portrayal of Helena I rather think she steals the show from her co-stars. John Williams' score is as fantastic as ever, and even the costume design is quite fetching. Truly, for everything that is wrong about this title, it could have gone much more wrong. And it didn't. No one doubted its prospects more than me from the time it was announced (since before that, if we're including the very existence of 'Crystal skull'), so no one is more astonished than I am at how worthy 'The dial of destiny' is. I recognize that in the grand scheme of pop culture it has not been received well, but I can only say that for my part, I find it a fine, honorable conclusion to the saga that began in 1981. It certainly hasn't and will not find equal favor among all comers, but if someone as jaded as me can sit down for this fifth 'Indiana Jones' and be entertained, I can only give it my very warm recommendation!