Undercover S1: A Belgian/Dutch crime drama, based very loosely on a real case, with Anna Drijver as a Dutch woman cop (and rather sexy when she cleans up, or if you like dirty biker chicks), and Tom Waes as a Belgian asshole man cop, setting up an undercover observation of a drug kingpin. Except the drugs are mostly ecstasy, the action is mostly in a campground trailer park, and everyone is just pathetic and low-rent. It’s barely above reality TV at times, the filmmaking is not excellent, and the plot is glacially slow. The tension between these cops who have to pretend to be a couple, and the shitty crime boss, his pathetic wife, and ever-changing roster of idiot henchmen, is much better than you’d expect. Watch it in the original Dutch/Flemish. Don’t expect a fast burner, this is one to watch a bit, go on with your life, watch a bit more…
L4yer Cake: Great crime book, if a little heavy on the “oo eck ‘e’re so ‘ery English wot wot” shit. Movie’s about 50% of the book, plus 25% new shit out of the writer’s ass, not always seamless. Movie ending is bullshit—in the book the same asshole shoots him but he lives and then delivers his “if you knew my name” line.
Never said in the book or movie, but his name is Bond, James Bond. Thus XXXX and the fake posing as Bond, sudden development of Navy Seals level murder skills, and fucking another man’s wife (which is rarely brought up in the Bond movies, but in the books it’s a common theme, also common to Ian Fleming himself—adultery made philandering without consequences easier for him/them).
I don’t especially like Daniel Craig as XXXX or Bond, but if you’re gonna do both, he barely passes. Book XXXX is just short of 30, Craig was 36 at the time, but looked 40+, a dried-up ballsack face already. Bloated tub of lard Colm Meany will always and only be sad, pathetic Transporter Chief O’Brien to me; he just looks constipated and confused when he’s trying to be menacing, or really all the time. George Harris as Mortimer is too pleasant much of the time to be the borderline personality of the book; it’s legitimately shocking when he does snap. The girl, Sienna Miller (named for the shittiest color crayon), is about a 7 or 7.5, not the perfect femme fatale of the book; tho the English have a lower scale of hotness so she’s probably as good as they’ve ever seen; and she has few scenes to even establish the adultery subplot.
Funniest moment of the show was the “Serbian” gangsters speaking Romanian; I couldn’t tell everything they were saying with my half-assed Spanish and quarter-assed French, but all Romance languages are recognizable. The English filmmakers probably didn’t know the difference; anywhere east of Germany is Poland, eh, limey?
★★★☆☆ — aggressively mediocre interpretation of better but not amazing source material.
Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse: So, up front: I don’t especially like Spiders, or Men, or Spider-Men, and as noted in The Boys, I don’t trust anyone with super-powers not to be a super-jerk. I grew up with the Electric Company Spider-Man, but by the ’80s that motherfucking bug had his own live-action TV show, cartoon, cereal, toys, Japanese sentai show, and more, raking in $millions a year. Plus the police, military, and civilian applications of his web-shooter goop must be worth $billions. If he’s married to MJ she’s worth at least as much as an actress. The poor white boy from Queens act is offensive.
But I needed something light and dumb after the hash they made of L4yer Cake.
Miles Morales is certainly a more humble protagonist than ’60s-era Peter Parker; less Hardy Boys and more Boyz n the Hood. But it’s taken 20 minutes to get him bitten and plot to start. How are there not thousands or millions of Spider-People in a world where every radioactive spider produces the same powers? As usual in the movies and TV shows, with limited rights and limited creative people of their own, they only acknowledge the existence of Spidey’s “rogues gallery”, not any of the hundreds of other supers placed in New York in the comics.
I’m not a big fan of urban graffiti; it’s mostly criminals marking territory they extort protection money from, or vandals damaging property they don’t own. Buy a fucking canvas to paint on.
Mama Morales speaks like two lines of Spanish ever, then switches back to English for the honky audience. NYPD Cop Dad is the stern-but-fair bullshit they’d like to sell; I expect he’s all Training Day on the streets.
Even in cartoons, Stan Lee got his cameo. But not Steve Ditko. They can’t spare one fucking scene in this Russian-epic-length film for the man who created classic Spider-Man and drew the comic until Stan stiffed him on money (as he did to everyone)? There’s a passing mention of him in the credits, which is sadly better than most do.
I did genuinely laugh at one joke: “Hey, maybe you guys can go around? OK, thanks, New York.”
Spider-Gwen and Noir SM are good takes on the idea; I’m familiar with SG from the comics. Has-Been SM and Spider-Ham are awful, jokes carried way past their sell-by date. Old Aunt May with a baseball bat is good and strong, as fits a potential Herald of Galactus. Mary Jane as slightly frumpy Jessica Rabbit is weird, but she has little screen time, she’s just a trophy for various Peters.
Kingpin’s a perfect villain as always and chews the scenery less than in the Daredevil TV show. But for someone so obsessed with family, he isn’t very understanding of others’ familial conflicts. Still, he halfway saves this flick.
Doc Ock is interesting, but I don’t see how the relationship with Aunt May can work after this. Prowler’s given a surprisingly good background (but a very Huntress-like outfit with nipple patches). The other villains are just big mooks, zero personality.
There’s no plot or conflict except “can Miles survive 3d6 random fight scenes and then push a button?” You will be shocked to learn the answer is yes, he pushes the button.
By 1 hour 20 minutes in, I’m ready for the end of the movie, but there’s 40 minutes of this to go. Brevity is the soul of wit, but alas. This just drags out the “kid can’t fight” part before the moment of heroism schtick. Then a very long neon Jackson Pollock screensaver with Doc Ock taking an improbable amount of abuse, instead of using a bruiser villain or fighting with the tentacles. All the villain fights get dumber and more punchy as the film progresses. The collider’s said to be making a black hole, which means it has at least the mass of a planet, possibly a star; but happily magic dimension shit just reverses itself and there’s no lasting apocalyptic results like a city vaporizing even if you do shut it down. Consequence-free adventuring.
“Anyone can wear the mask”, moralizes (oh, “Morales”, I get why he’s so preachy now, “Miles” of it even) a kid who is faster and stronger than any athlete, can recover from almost any injury, swings by his arms from tiny spider strings, and can be invisible (and what man could be good with that power?!) and shoot lasers from his hands. You know, like a SPIDER. If a normal kid wears a SM mask and leaps off a building, they’d just die horribly.
★★☆☆☆ — massively overstayed its welcome, shitty final sequence, too many underdeveloped characters.