Pjtaylor-96-138044

'Speed 2: Cruise Control (1997)' has the reputation of being one of the worst films - or, at least, sequels - ever made. While it's true that it pales in comparison to its predecessor, people who make that claim are simply full of ship. The film isn't exactly good, but it also genuinely isn't bad. After its fairly slow first movement, it becomes an intermittently exciting and mostly rather enjoyable vehicular actioner. In fact, its third act is honestly pretty fun, as suspenseful and compelling as it is ridiculous and over-the-top. Jason Patric is a pretty bland stand-in for Keanu Reeves (who, to be fair, isn't exactly the most dynamic of performers himself), but the supporting cast - including Temuera Morrison, Willem Dafoe and, of course, Sandra Bullock - are energetic and charming enough to keep this afloat for its entire duration. It isn't a movie I'd especially recommend (there are many much more entertaining action flicks out there, after all), but it also doesn't deserve the amount of hate it gets. It's mediocre, not awful. Perhaps my lowered expectations are to blame for my minor fondness for it, and you'll likely be very disappointed if you're somehow expecting something as propulsive and high-octane as 'Speed (1994)', but I can't bring myself to condemn it on any real level. It's a perfectly serviceable effort that may not be entirely shipshape, but is certainly see-worthy.

'The Decoy Bride (2011)', despite the best and fairly admirable efforts of Kelly Macdonald and David Tennant (a Scottish actor pretending to be an English man whose fiancée is played by an English actor pretending to be an American woman and whose wife is played by a Scottish actor pretending to be convinced by said English actor's American accent), is one of those movies that's both fine and not fine all at once. Apparently made for under half of the initially projected cost of the screenplay, this very classic yet very mediocre rom-com struggles with a lacklustre script and a lack of chemistry between its characters. The actors themselves have nice enough interplay, but the writing really underserves them. Nowhere is this more evident in the lightning-fast switch from the central couple hating - or, at least, being actively mean to - each other to maybe perhaps almost loving each other - or, at least, seemingly like their accidental union may not be a mistake after all. It's entirely unbelievable, and the picture struggles to mine any genuine comedy from its classic mix-up concept. It isn't all that funny and it isn't all that romantic, but it is consistently watchable and will likely scratch an itch for those who enjoy the formula of the genre. It's intermittently enjoyable, and the actors are all doing their best with the material. It's also nice to see Furio from The 'Sopranos (1999 - 2007)' in a less violent, albeit still creepy, role. It truly isn't bad, but I wouldn't really recommend it unless you're a die-hard fan of either its core cast or its wider genre. There's not much else to say, really.

Presented partially as a faux-documentary, Lizzie Borden's rough-around-the-edges but delightfully feminist 'Born In Flames (1983)' imagines a world in which America has become a so-called socialist democracy, ostensibly free of inequality and capitalist tendencies. However, this apparent utopia is far from as perfect as it may first seem; in fact, it isn't so much socialist as it is stagnant, still set up to cater to white, cishet, upper-class men who can use the concept of progress as a way to hinder any further examples of it. Everyone is considered equal by the government, and anyone advocating for their individual rights (or, indeed, the rights of any oppressed groups) are considered separatist. Yet, a unified front only works if it's always marching towards true equality, rather than stalling in a position of only partial equality and declaring it the best place to be, so it's natural for civil unrest and eventual revolution to rear its head. We can only spend so long being told to be grateful for the sacrifices and advancements made by the previous generation while that same generation washes its hands of responsibility and abandons those it supposedly fought so hard for. Something's got to give. It's interesting that the world this depicts isn't the right-wing dystopia most examples of alternate-future media aim to critique (and, indeed, we find ourselves in today), but is instead a world that's technically more fair and just than the one the film itself was made in. This unusual decision is used to keenly examine the idea that what's currently described as left-wing is often more centre-left, that there's always progress to be made and that we shouldn't rest when only some of the injustices of our society have been faced. The fight is never over, society is never perfect, progress is fluid and it needs to be allowed to evolve; standards must be pushed closer and closer to perfection, we mustn't be allowed to become complacent, "good enough" is never good enough. The flick is excellent at focusing on intersectional feminism, focusing on women of different races, classes and sexualities and showcasing how their different goals eventually align so that they can become a united front. It's also great at showing how unrest eventually boils over into revolution, constantly keeping you on the side of its protagonists even as they take up arms against a society that at first seems peaceful. As a film, it is unruly and amateurish in most of its aspects, and yet its framing device of sometimes being a documentary - or, at the very least, being comprised partially of radio broadcasts, televised news reports, and surveillance footage - allows this unprofessionalism (including what seems to be a mostly improvised screenplay, some slightly wonky acting, generally poor audio, and the occasional mistake such as a notably out-of-focus shot) to work in the affair's favour. After a few minutes (which, to be fair, are disorienting), you really start to believe the world which the piece presents, as well as the way in which it presents it. Even the scenes technically not meant to be documentary-style - as evidenced by their cutting format and the fact that no cameras would be allowed where they take place - feel like they're being captured by an in-universe cameraman, further lending the feature a palpable texture that compounds its excellently holistic and believable word building. Though the narrative is a little unwieldy, it replicates the sometimes necessary messiness of stories found during the process of making a non-fiction film, as well as the inherent disorganised beginnings of revolution and protest. Indeed, the feature replicates the way in which its initially disparate efforts of its various characters and groups eventually come together in unified action, becoming more and more focused as it heads towards its ballsy (and sadly rather prescient) conclusion. It's all just really invigorating, a vital and courageous picture with something to say and a novel way in which to say it. It's essentially a call to action, and it feels increasingly relevant today (frankly, the flawed social democracy it depicts feels much more comfortable than the system in which we currently find ourselves). It's a really good movie, if not for its technical and narrative execution than for its thematic content and underlying message. It's somewhat of a shock to the system, and it left me with a smile on my face due to how unashamed it is in presenting its own political ideology. It's brilliantly progressive, thunderously feminist, and arguably essential.