pietrisycamollaviadelrechiotemexity

Two rentals that were both rather better than I'd expected (neither involve zombies, so there's not much in the way of deeper analysis):

The Bourne Identity. I actually think I resisted seeing this for a long while because I still remember choking back a guffaw when I first saw the trailer for it in the theater, as it had one of the most incredibly stupid lines I've heard. "He has the skills...of a dangerous man." Somehow that line, in the standard Trailer Voiceover Guy portentous delivery, occurring a brief flash-cut of Matt Damon flipping out on some security guards really stuck with me, and mostly in a "Yeah, let's not go see that anytime soon" sort of way.

But it wound up working its way through my generally-bloated netflix queue, and the trailer's bad first impression was unfounded. Definitely a by-the-numbers plot, but my heart warmed to it by none of the characters really being melodramatic about it. Bourne's concerned that he has amnesia, sure, but he stays away from screaming-at-the-sky routines, Marie (who sadly didn't get to use any of her Time Control mad skills in this role) reacts to sudden and rather calmly-approached violence in an appropriate manner--namely a sort of dazed powersave mode, rather than hysterics. (It's been an irritation of mine that character reactions to sudden blindsiding uberstress is usually some melodramatic explosion of some sort--I really do think the believable human reaction to Serious Fubar situations is that either you will freeze, or you will act rather automatically. It's not as easy to make look good for the camera, of course, which is why melodrama is always easier.)

I also liked that Bourne was clearly your pretty standard government supersoldier, but they dispense with tedious expository dialogue or scenes to that effect. The intelligence suits trying to coordinate his resolution didn't sit down and explain what they already knew at each other (well, mostly) for the benefit of Cletus in the audience, which is a lack rare enough that I can appreciate its presence.

Boondock Saints. More uneven, but I dug it in a style-over-substance sort of way. Vigilante-porn, granted, but the silly stylish overflair saved it. I would have really liked the ending to be a more cassidy-and-sundance setup--maybe the courthouse surrounded, and our Saints walking calmly right out to voiceover of one of their prayers about being guarded by angels and whatnot, roll credits. Also, I'm not really sure I needed to see Willem Defoe in drag. Truly unnecessary. (Drag's one of those things I think I just lack a crucial neural circuit for the alleged comic value of. I've always sort of agreed with a source-forgotten web-snark I saw somewhere or other than dismissed the whole thing as "drag is the gender-equivalent of blackface.")
posted by Gar @ 10:25 AM