amesmonde
Joined May 2002
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Written by Noah Hawley and directed by Dana Gonzales, "Mr. October" keeps the series' momentum burning with high production values, inventive set pieces, and a deft balance of spectacle and suspense. Tensions rise between rival corporations, a reunion unfolds, and a long-kept secret comes to light - all against the backdrop of a world tipping deeper into chaos.
The sumptuous Georgian-style party is a visual feast: powdered wigs, heavy makeup, candlelit halls, and refined etiquette brought vividly to life. When the alien threat intrudes, the elegance shatters, and we're left with an arresting collision of high society and visceral horror. The body count climbs swiftly, and while some of the violence is graphically on the nose, other moments are wisely left to the imagination, letting dread breathe in the shadows.
Sydney Chandler, Timothy Olyphant, and Babou Ceesay once again anchor the drama with grounded, magnetic performances, selling both the quiet human beats and the moments of sheer terror. Ceesay's Morrow, gets some more interesting moments, and Lily Newmark's shocked Nibs is memorable. The episode also treats us to an array of new creatures - each distinct, unnerving, and rendered with impressive FX work that expands the franchise's bestiary without feeling too gimmicky.
Yet, as with the premiere, the editing lets the episode down. There are moments where the flow stutters, and gaps of darkness linger - possibly placeholders for ad breaks - evoking the old days of watching syndicated TV. While it may be an intentional broadcast-style choice, it occasionally pulls the viewer out of the immersive atmosphere, as do some of the more heavy-handed (perhaps intentionally different) editing choices.
As the sister scours the chaos for her brother, and he navigates a perilous path toward safety, the story tightens its grip. Gonzales' direction makes the most of both the intimate character moments and the sprawling set pieces, delivering a world that feels at once lived-in and on the brink of collapse.
"Mr. October" doesn't just move the plot forward - it enriches the series' texture, marrying lavish period-style opulence with the cold bite of Alien horror. The result is unsettling, thrilling, and visually captivating, even if the editorial rhythm needs sharpening.
The sumptuous Georgian-style party is a visual feast: powdered wigs, heavy makeup, candlelit halls, and refined etiquette brought vividly to life. When the alien threat intrudes, the elegance shatters, and we're left with an arresting collision of high society and visceral horror. The body count climbs swiftly, and while some of the violence is graphically on the nose, other moments are wisely left to the imagination, letting dread breathe in the shadows.
Sydney Chandler, Timothy Olyphant, and Babou Ceesay once again anchor the drama with grounded, magnetic performances, selling both the quiet human beats and the moments of sheer terror. Ceesay's Morrow, gets some more interesting moments, and Lily Newmark's shocked Nibs is memorable. The episode also treats us to an array of new creatures - each distinct, unnerving, and rendered with impressive FX work that expands the franchise's bestiary without feeling too gimmicky.
Yet, as with the premiere, the editing lets the episode down. There are moments where the flow stutters, and gaps of darkness linger - possibly placeholders for ad breaks - evoking the old days of watching syndicated TV. While it may be an intentional broadcast-style choice, it occasionally pulls the viewer out of the immersive atmosphere, as do some of the more heavy-handed (perhaps intentionally different) editing choices.
As the sister scours the chaos for her brother, and he navigates a perilous path toward safety, the story tightens its grip. Gonzales' direction makes the most of both the intimate character moments and the sprawling set pieces, delivering a world that feels at once lived-in and on the brink of collapse.
"Mr. October" doesn't just move the plot forward - it enriches the series' texture, marrying lavish period-style opulence with the cold bite of Alien horror. The result is unsettling, thrilling, and visually captivating, even if the editorial rhythm needs sharpening.
Director writer Mike P. Nelson' offers just over fifteen minutes, The Jason Universe: Sweet Revenge wastes no time delivering carnage with stunning efficiency. The practical gore and effects are executed with impressive flair, making the most of a tight budget to deliver visceral, blood-drenched thrills that fans of the slasher genre will appreciate.
Lead actress Ally Ioannides (as Eve) brings compelling strength and presence to the screen, guiding the chaos with control and charisma. She anchors the short with a proactive, emotional core that elevates the body count with real stakes.
Stepping into the hockey mask is Schuyler White, who delivers the kind of physicality and menace worthy of the franchise's legacy. His movements have the weight and deliberation of classic Jason, making him a fitting heir to the role's long tradition. Incidentally, Chris Carlson's Harold oddly gives Robert Englund vibes.
While the short doesn't have the gritty VHS feel, or film grain, it harnesses that original Jason ambiance with purposeful pacing, shadowy menace, and well-timed scares. There's a modern polish-akin to the 2009 Friday reimagining-but the spirit of the early films pulses just beneath the surface.
Nods to the franchise are peppered throughout-from familiar kill setups to sly narrative references-enough to feel like a loving wink to long-time fans. Add in a couple of clever twists, and you get a sharp little narrative that still manages to build momentum.
The finale hits you with a cliffhanger of sorts, leaving plenty of room for speculation and appetite for more. And then-the end credits roll to Sugar and Spice's 'I've Changed' an ironic and fittingly twisted choice that underlines the film's playful tone.
For fans of Crystal Lake carnage, Sweet Revenge is a brisk, blood-soaked treat - a short that understands the rules of its universe and plays with them just enough to keep you hooked. Well worth checking out.
Lead actress Ally Ioannides (as Eve) brings compelling strength and presence to the screen, guiding the chaos with control and charisma. She anchors the short with a proactive, emotional core that elevates the body count with real stakes.
Stepping into the hockey mask is Schuyler White, who delivers the kind of physicality and menace worthy of the franchise's legacy. His movements have the weight and deliberation of classic Jason, making him a fitting heir to the role's long tradition. Incidentally, Chris Carlson's Harold oddly gives Robert Englund vibes.
While the short doesn't have the gritty VHS feel, or film grain, it harnesses that original Jason ambiance with purposeful pacing, shadowy menace, and well-timed scares. There's a modern polish-akin to the 2009 Friday reimagining-but the spirit of the early films pulses just beneath the surface.
Nods to the franchise are peppered throughout-from familiar kill setups to sly narrative references-enough to feel like a loving wink to long-time fans. Add in a couple of clever twists, and you get a sharp little narrative that still manages to build momentum.
The finale hits you with a cliffhanger of sorts, leaving plenty of room for speculation and appetite for more. And then-the end credits roll to Sugar and Spice's 'I've Changed' an ironic and fittingly twisted choice that underlines the film's playful tone.
For fans of Crystal Lake carnage, Sweet Revenge is a brisk, blood-soaked treat - a short that understands the rules of its universe and plays with them just enough to keep you hooked. Well worth checking out.
Noah Hawley-the creative mind behind Fargo and Legion-wears multiple hats here as creator, writer, executive producer, and director of Episode 1, "Neverland." The episode was shot by cinematographer Dana Gonzales.
From the opening frame, Alien: Earth nails the tone-oppressive corridors, corporate dread, and that lurking sense of unease that harks back to the claustrophobic tension of the original Alien. At the same time, there are echoes of Prometheus in the sleek biotech undertones, and for fans paying attention, a visual reference to Hicks' demise in Alien 3 is even thrown in, a subtle nod that underscores the series' respect for its lineage.
Visually, the episode is first rate: direction is assured, cinematography striking, FX seamless, and the sets feel tactile and lived-in. Sydney Chandler brings emotional depth as Wendy, Timothy Olyphant exudes steady authority, and Babou Ceesay is magnetically composed even in quieter scenes.
There are plenty of nods and homages to the Alien canon-haunting shadows, industrial design cues, and tone-but these serve the story rather than override it. It's a thoughtful homage, honoring the spirit of the franchise while forging its own path.
Where the episode falters is in the editing: jarring cuts and mis-timed transitions undercut some suspense. In a franchise built on meticulous pacing, these missteps stand out, even if they don't fully derail the immersion.
Still, as a standalone entry-and as a faithful extension of the Alien legacy-this episode delivers. It's atmospheric, well-crafted, and brimming with thematic promise. Now it just needs a sharper editorial edge to truly match the rest of its high-caliber execution.
From the opening frame, Alien: Earth nails the tone-oppressive corridors, corporate dread, and that lurking sense of unease that harks back to the claustrophobic tension of the original Alien. At the same time, there are echoes of Prometheus in the sleek biotech undertones, and for fans paying attention, a visual reference to Hicks' demise in Alien 3 is even thrown in, a subtle nod that underscores the series' respect for its lineage.
Visually, the episode is first rate: direction is assured, cinematography striking, FX seamless, and the sets feel tactile and lived-in. Sydney Chandler brings emotional depth as Wendy, Timothy Olyphant exudes steady authority, and Babou Ceesay is magnetically composed even in quieter scenes.
There are plenty of nods and homages to the Alien canon-haunting shadows, industrial design cues, and tone-but these serve the story rather than override it. It's a thoughtful homage, honoring the spirit of the franchise while forging its own path.
Where the episode falters is in the editing: jarring cuts and mis-timed transitions undercut some suspense. In a franchise built on meticulous pacing, these missteps stand out, even if they don't fully derail the immersion.
Still, as a standalone entry-and as a faithful extension of the Alien legacy-this episode delivers. It's atmospheric, well-crafted, and brimming with thematic promise. Now it just needs a sharper editorial edge to truly match the rest of its high-caliber execution.