Reviews

Despite what its title may appear to indicate, Denys Arcand's latest opus, « La chute de l'empire américain », is not the third chapter in a trilogy that would include "Le déclin de l'empire américain" and "Les invasions barbares". It is a film that bears glimpses of the thriller and comedy genres but that, ultimately, is an unapologetic vehicle for social commentary, tackling the very under-explored subject of tax evasion.

The film tells the story of Pierre-Paul, an intellectual young man with both a PhD in philosophy and a heart of gold, who works for a delivery company and frequently volunteers at local community organizations that help the homeless. While he is on the job delivering a parcel, he witnesses a hold up where a significant amount of money gets stolen from a boutique and where everyone involved, but one man, gets shot to death in the process. Stuck in the middle of that crime scene with dead bodies and two bags filled with cash, he decides to take the money and hide it in his truck before the police arrives. He ends up leaving with the money, and teaming up with a luxury escort and an ex-convict who specializes in tax evasion to come up with a money-laundering scheme that bears more similarities with a modern-day Robin Hood tale than anything else.

I thought the film had quite an interesting premise, which was definitely reminiscent of one of my favourite films, "No Country for Old Men". That being said, that's the only thing both films have in common, as "No Country for Old Men" had this obvious classic main theme about the lure of profit and the price that people are willing to pay for it. It also tackled multiple sub-themes with great, powerful subtlety that elevated the film to a whole other level. The use that "La chute de l'empire américain" makes of this premise mostly fuels some of its sub-plots, which bring a thriller aspect to the story in which, oddly enough, the main characters never get directly involved. So, in that regard, the criminal underworld and Pierre-Paul's universe never clash, with the latter remaining in a relatively safe space where the only threat is a police investigation, leaving plenty of space (or runtime) for philosophical speeches and a somewhat preachy and pompous charge against tax evasion that is pervasively (and a bit annoyingly) disseminated in quite pontificating fashion through dialogue that seriously lacks subtlety and often times, fluidity.

The opening scene, which introduces the audience to the protagonist, really exposes this issue from the get-go: We meet Pierre-Paul as he explains to his soon to be ex-girlfriend that his intelligence, in today's society, is a handicap. As he successively spews pompous quotes from different philosophers (and makes sure to name them in the process) to get his point across, while the girlfriend in question remains speechless for the most part, you get a feeling that Pierre-Paul's character was supposed to look incredibly smart, but instead sounds socially awkward and more pretentious than anything else.

That being said, that doesn't make the film unwatchable, as there are many other aspects that make it worthwhile. First, the cast does a very good job despite the deficiencies in their characters' dialogue. Alexandre Landry, as Pierre-Paul, manages to give his character an overall awkwardness that brings credibility to his delivery of dialogue that would have otherwise sounded very unnatural. He also makes Pierre-Paul feel like a genuinely good person with the best intentions. Maripier Morin got her first acting gig in this film, and really exceeded everyone's expectations, as she more than competently impersonates a luxury escort who, against all odds, ends up falling for Pierre-Paul. Rémi Girard, Maxim Roy and Louis Morissette each offer quite entertaining performances, but the standout, in my view, was Pierre Curzi, who plays a wealthy tax attorney. They gave him the perfect look, with the slicked back grey hair, the blue suit and the Christine Lagarde tan. And his performance is absolutely on point, as he's got a glacial look in his eyes, and an imperturbable calmness that is certainly reminiscent of a few bankers that appeared at U. S. senate hearings after the financial crisis of 2008-2009.

Also, what Arcand lacks in writing prowess when it comes to dialogue, he makes up for with his ability as a director. The direction in "La chute de l'empire américain" is one of the film's stronger points, and without it, this could have been a painful film to watch. It takes a while to see where this film is going, as screen time is initially shared in equal parts between many sub-plots, some of which are quite dynamic: the injured survivor of the shootout seeking shelter, criminals looking for the stolen money, the police investigation, the ex-convict choosing whether or not he wants to help Pierre-Paul, the love story between Pierre-Paul and the escort, etc. It is unfortunate, however, that many of those settle themselves without ever being blended into the story to an extent that would have allowed them to be exploited to their full potential, prematurely leaving all the screen time to a main plot that heavily relies on clumsily written dialogue to deliver its social commentary and whose denouement will feel a bit naive to anyone who does not believe in fairy tales. That being said, the film is not without its creative, clever and funny moments, and manages to maintain a pace that keeps the audience interested.

Overall, this is a mixed bag that shows early signs of deficiencies in its delivery of social commentary, but that remains entertaining for as long as it keeps its sub-plots alive. While I sincerely appreciated that someone finally made an attempt at tackling the subject of tax evasion with the best of intentions, when the film fully enters social commentary delivery mode, it unfortunately exposes its own flaws way too visibly, despite being supported by a great cast that mostly appeases the harm, but that can only work around the lack of subtlety and the preachy aspect of the writing. Its qualities, however, make it worth watching nonetheless.

There is a lot to like about this film, and it translated quite clearly into its worldwide success at the box office and overall popularity. You've got two big stars as the leads playing well-written characters and generating an impressive on-screen chemistry. On one hand, you've got the acting debut of one of these stars, Lady Gaga, and, on the other hand, the directional debut of the other star, Bradley Cooper. And they both impress in these respective debuts.

During its first half, "A Star is Born" is a feel good movie. It tells the (very unlikely) story of a well-known musician, Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper) who falls in love with a super talented yet struggling and unknown singer, Ally, and takes her under his wing, catapulting her into superstardom. As her career takes off, the relationship between the two of them faces a number of challenges, including Maine's alcoholism. If this sounds like a familiar story or film title, here's why: movies with that same title and storyline were released in 1937,1954 and 1976, respectively. So for those who feel like Hollywood struggles to renew itself and come up with new ideas lately, this will not rock your world with its originality. This is somewhat standard Oscar material in many regards, and especially in its delivery of emotion. It's got a big bulky buildup filled with positivity in its first half, only to then go down in a classic (and quite predictable) tragic path in the latter half. Yes, you can definitely expect half of the audience to shed tears as the credits roll.

That being said, "A Star is Born" is highly successful at generating emotions, albeit relatively uncomplicated ones, and the magic operates through the film's main qualities, which are honestly pretty outstanding: the chemistry between both leads, and very well-written characters and dialogue. Both Lady Gaga's and Bradley Cooper's performances are absolutely fantastic and the chemistry between both characters is beyond tangible. It is beautiful to watch, actually. The cast is great, and that brief appearance from Dave Chappelle was a pure delight too.

Bradley Cooper's directional debut is very promising, to say the least, as those concert scenes truly made you feel like you were on stage with a rock band, with blinding projectors partly blurring glimpses of a cheering crowd of thousands of people, giving the audience a nice sample of a surreal feeling that only a handful of major on-stage performers get to experience in their lifetime. Hats off to Cooper and to the whole crew for a visually gorgeous picture. The musical performances are also excellent.

With regard to the script, while the dialogue is outstanding and (thankfully) does not shy away from including a surprising amount of F bombs, the tragic denouement, to me, didn't get a proper development to warrant an event of this significance/dramatic impact. In contrast with the first two thirds of the film, which takes a somewhat lengthy approach at detailing the different stages of a relationship and the psychological evolution of the characters, this seemed like an abrupt turn of events resulting from a shortcut in the psychology of an otherwise beautifully-written character.

Regardless of this, "A Star is Born" is worth watching for the chemistry between both leads alone.

To be perfectly honest, I didn't really like House of 1,000 Corpses. I didn't hate it, but to me, it was not a standout horror flick by any stretch of the imagination. I thought the plot was pretty standard, the visuals were not overly appealing, the tone lacked the kind of humour that I was initially expecting, and the shock value and fancy gore that led the MPAA to force Rob Zombie to tone down the violence in order to obtain an R rating was nowhere to be found.

A couple of years later, I see the trailer for The Devil's Rejects, and it's honestly one of the most intense trailers I've ever seen. So I decide to give the film a try and go see this at a nearby theater.

The Devil's Rejects does not waste a single minute and jumps right into the action as the film begins. From the get-go, the cinematography looks very different from the previous outing, with a somewhat grainy picture, saturated yellows and washed out blues and reds that give the image a warm and dirty look. As an army of police men raids the lair of the infamous family of murderous degenerates, the character of Sheriff Wydell emerges as a threatening, religious zealot looking for revenge, and extreme violence erupts.

From there, I knew that I'd be watching a completely different film, and probably a much better one than its predecessor. The look of the film alone will be a delight to everyone who's a fan of 70's horror/exploitation flicks. Clearly, Rob Zombie wanted to pay homage to a genre and a decade from which he obviously drew tons of inspiration. And it gives quite a special feel to the film throughout.

The Devil's Rejects is one of these extreme "good" versus evil films pitting murderous criminals against an insane policeman, in a fashion that was somewhat reminiscent of French cult classic "Dobermann". It gets to a point where you wonder who's supposed to be in the "good guys" camp...and the answer is absolutely nobody. This is a film in which every character is fundamentally evil, and where any trace of good intentions or kindness gets sliced and diced or beaten to a bloody pulp. And honestly, it's so incredibly balls-to-the-wall and filled with the darkest humour that it's hilarious at times, if you can handle the violence. Captain Spaulding punching that woman and scaring away her kid before he steals her car had me rolling in laughter, so did that piece of dialogue coming out of Otis' mouth about the barrel of his pistol as he talks to two men he's about to recklessly execute.

The cast is just plain great: Sid Haig is an absolute standout here, as Captain Spaulding, a sadistic clown who acts as the fatherly figure to the other two maniacs, Otis (Bill Moseley) and Baby (Sheri Moon Zombie), the latter of which offers quite an over-the-top performance, thereby successfully delivering an over-the-top character whose unpredictability is quite spooky. Bill Moseley has some great moments here too. The show-stealer, however, is William Forsythe, who plays Wydell, a bone-chilling sheriff looking to avenge the death of his brother (who was executed in House of a 1,000 Corpses). That man is by far the biggest maniac in the entire film, and that makes for quite a memorable "villain" among a palette of murderous maniacs. There are a number of secondary characters that are played by legends of horror cinema (Ken Foree from Dawn of the Dead, Michael Berryman from The Hills Have Eyes, etc.), which is a nice addition and adds yet another layer of homage to the horror genre and the 70's.

Some scenes get pretty intense too, including many that involve Sheriff Wydell. I'm surprised that Zombie did not have to make a new cut for this film in order to obtain an R rating, as it's more violent and graphic than House of 1,000 Corpses by a landslide. But overall, and oddly enough, The Devil's Rejects is quite a fun time. The soundtrack features great tracks from the 70's that blend in perfectly, the characters are quite colourful, the dialogue is surprisingly sharp, Rob Zombie's direction is great and the film's look is flawless. On the downside, the story is a bit linear, the few plot twists were a bit predictable, and character development is pretty much nonexistent. But if you take it for what it is, and are among the target audience, you'll be in for quite a ride. As the trailer advertised it, it is a tale of revenge, madness and murder...and a mighty fun one!

Below are reviews for each season of the show.

SEASON ONE: More akin to an educational pamphlet for teenage girls- and their parents - than to an actual fiction series.

"Fugueuse" was a massive hit in Quebec last year. Its textbook depiction of a dramatic situation appears more akin to an educational pamphlet for teenage girls - and their parents - on the dangers of falling into the web of a pimp - from the early signs to the tragic consequences - than it is to an actual fiction series. It tells the story of a teenage girl from a good suburban household, Fanny, who falls prey to a wannabe hip hop producer from the city, Damien, who also happens to be exactly the kind of guy you wouldn't want your daughter to fall in love with: a lying, manipulative lowlife pimp. She quickly falls for him, as he showers her with love, gifts, while initiating her to a lifestyle that most girls of her age would find glamorous. He slowly manipulates her into getting away from her family and friends, and eventually, she flees. A downward spiral of partying, drug use and degrading sexual abuse ensues, thereby breaking her pride and leaving her at the mercy of Damien and his entourage's dirty wills. Next thing you know, she dances for dollars in a strip club, and a couple weeks later, she's a full time prostitute, with Damien no longer being the nice guy she initially met, even though she still loves him. From there, expect things to take the worst possible turns, and history to repeat itself - almost to a point where it becomes a caricature.

There have been dozens of films with identical narratives released worldwide - most of which were low-budget TV movies "based on true stories" with a heavy dose of melodrama - so for anyone who's seen one of those, nothing in the narrative will come as much of a surprise here. The script feels quite mechanical and the writers never bother bringing much depth or nuance to most characters, instead opting for obligatory, functional archetypes through which textbook psychological mechanisms operate. In the latter half of the series, especially, Fanny is nothing but a victim, which becomes her only defining character trait. The same can be said about Damien, who's just the typical, ill-willed textbook lowlife gangster wannabe. Nevertheless, Ludivine Reding's (Fanny) and Jean-François Ruel's (Damien) do a great job impersonating their respective characters, despite having to work around dialogue that sounds phony on a regular basis and being stuck in a Manichean narrative. Ludivine Reding, especially, really does a great job portraying Fanny through every step of her character development, which occurs almost entirely during the first half of the series. Honorable mention goes to Jean-François Ruel as well, who is highly despicable as the villain.

From a technical standpoint, "Fugueuse" looks pretty good (for a series with a relatively limited budget), with competent direction and cinematography. It manages to engender some genuinely tense moments and depicts the contrast between the different environments better than most productions with similar storylines. Again, what's missing here is the key component in a TV series: quality writing. The main deficiencies in the writing lie mostly within the dialogue, which at times sounds phony, and within the lack of a surprising twists and nuanced characters, during the latter half especially. To the writer's credit, however, "Fugueuse" manages to maintain a nice pace throughout, despite certain repetitive or far-fetched turns of events.

As an educational piece, I suppose "Fugueuse" can say mission accomplished as it managed to spark discussions on the issue of sexual exploitation in numerous Quebec households, which might have had the effect of raising parent and teenager awareness on the matter to a certain extent. In the #metoo era, and within a Quebec society where the appetite for local drama series is endless, it was easy to predict that "Fugueuse" would be incredibly popular. And as we've seen countless times in the past, popularity is in no way an indicator of quality.

5/10

SEASON 2: The perfect instruction manual on how NOT to write a fiction series

When it was announced that there would be a second season of this show, the first thing that came to my mind was that it would probably be just as didactic, this time focusing on the aftermath of Fanny's nightmarish descent into sexual exploitation hell, and the impact on her relatives. But it was not, or at least, only very partially. The story picks up four years after the first season ended, and Fanny has become an undercover police officer, and probably the least believable one ever put on screen. We follow her as she infiltrates a group of homeless teenagers in an attempt to track those responsible for the murder of a bunch of teenage runaways whose bodies were found in a quarry owned by a wealthy Montreal attorney. The group that she infiltrates includes Daisie, an aboriginal prostitute, Yohan, a runaway teenager struggling with his gender identity, and Karim, a young pimp.

While I could certainly appreciate the fact that the writers did not opt for an entirely Manichean approach to storytelling this time around, Fanny's quick transition from prostitute to undercover police officer is barely believable at all. At first, I did not find it to be such a big deal. On the contrary, I thought it brought a whole dimension of well-assumed fiction to the table, thereby squashing one of the main issues that I had with the first season. Despite the completely absurd premise, the main plot revolving around the investigation was somewhat puzzling. But it didn't take too long for the writer's bad habits to resurface and, in many ways, for their spectrum to extend even further. Several key characters are severely underdeveloped and barely get any screen time, often at the expense of useless ones. Another annoying aspect is the obvious insistence on integrating characters reflecting hot topics that are "du jour" in Canadian/Québecois society, such as oppressed groups like trans and Indigenous people and communities. While I do appreciate the effort to reflect diversity and agree that it is necessary to break taboos about these groups, the insertion of these characters feels obligatory, over explicative and clumsy. Token, stereotypical characters do not genuinely reflect diversity, sorry. On the contrary, it makes it look like an attempt to check the necessary boxes to get tax credits from the government. A prime example is the restaurant owner, a trans character whose second line of dialogue contains the word "vaginoplasty". Why not have her look at the camera and say "there you go, ignorant folks, that's how it's called" and spell it out, while we're at it. Oh boy.

Another core issue lies in the fact that the main plot becomes totally secondary at the expense of a torrent of sub-plots that mostly lead to nowhere. Many characters are completely forgotten midway through, and you're left wondering why a complete episode was wasted on their story. Again, most times, it feels like it was only to check these famous "boxes" that were mentioned earlier. As the conclusion nears, you can feel that the writer clumsily tries to piece everything back together and recalibrate the story towards the main plot, but it is too late, and the conclusion feels rushed, unconvincing and reflective of the entire season: all over the place and messy.

On the bright side, I did like how they brought back Damien, and the nuances they were able to inject into his character, as he struggles to reinsert himself into society with old "acquaintances" knocking on his door only a few days after he's released from prison. Other returning characters such as Carlo, Nat and Fanny's parents are cruelly underused. The cast is very uneven, and oddly enough, the best performances come from actors mostly impersonating secondary characters: Jean-François Ruel (Damien, the main villain from season one), Iannicko N'Doua-Légaré (Carlo, another villain from season one), Jean-Simon Leduc (Christophe, Fanny's new boyfriend), Kimberly Laferrière (Natasha, a prostitute from season one), Nicolas Canuel (Jérôme Montagne, the attorney) and Kevin Ranély (Karim, a young pimp) each deliver quite convincing performances. Ludivine Reding (Fanny, the protagonist), Jemmy Echaquan Dubé (the aboriginal prostitute) and Robin L'Houmeau (Yohan/Alex, the runaway trans teenager) are average at best. Marie-France Lambert (Fanny's boss, Josianne) delivers an awful performance. Again, it's obvious that the atrocious dialogue did not help, but every second of her screen time is incredibly cringe-worthy. Joseph Martin is not too far behind, as Josianne's sidekick cop. Those scenes where both these police officers have conversations with Fanny were seriously painful to watch.

Overall, while I can salute the willingness to go from a pamphlet-based model to pure fiction, making a second season of Fugueuse was an opportunistic, uncalculated and unnecessary move. The end result speaks for itself.

3/10

I was in my mid-teenage years when I first watched "American History X", and certainly thought it was quite a striking motion picture, both in its message and in its depiction of violence. I recently watched it again, and I'm not sure whether it did not age well at all, or whether my maturity as a viewer allowed me to put pure emotion aside and to lift the veil on fundamental issues with this film that are just very difficult to ignore.

Over twenty years later, I can definitely say that this film speaks volumes about numerous worrisome truths that are still plaguing American society today. However, I have to say that the delivery feels visually pompous and narratively pretty shallow, if not sometimes incoherent as far as character psychology is concerned.

We follow the story of a teenager named Daniel Vinyard (played by Edward Furlong), whose older brother, a skinhead named Derek (played by Edward Norton) is being released from prison, after spending over three years behind the bars for brutally murdering two black gang members. Through a narrative structure that includes numerous flashbacks, we get to see what led Derek to become a leader among a white supremacist gang and commit such a hateful crime. We also get to see how easily influenced Daniel is, trying to follow the same path as his older brother. Derek comes back home as a totally changed man, and as an older brother that feels the urgency to prevent his younger sibling from falling into the same spiral of hate and violence that ultimately ruined his life.

It is a well-known story that the director, Tony Kaye, didn't want his name associated to this film even before its release, due to his disapproval of the final cut, which apparently involves a tone that differs significantly from what he initially had in mind. I have no idea what Kaye's cut of this film was like, and perhaps we will never know, but one thing I can say is this: despite a relevant message altogether, I found that both the characters' psychology and the moral issues that it explores are oversimplified and tackled in a frustratingly superficial way. Some of the dialogue is clumsy and sometimes unnecessary. The best example: Derek didn't need to say "What did I do" when holding the bloodied up body of his young brother who just got shot. Also, Derek's transition from being a young man filled with rage and hatred to becoming a completely changed man is quite abrupt and feels very unnatural, and so does Daniel's sudden "change of mind", which occurs within the span of barely a couple of minutes, technically. Right after that conversation, they added a quick shot of both brothers running around the deserted street, poking fun at each other right after, just to show that Daniel's moment of clarity paid off. Oh boy. Tried to keep my palm away from my face, but couldn't.

This makes me wonder how badly the film's flaws are due to poor editing choices, and certain parts being left out of the cut that ended up getting released. We will never know, unfortunately.

At the time, Tony Kaye's background as a director was mostly within the world of advertising, which I thought was apparent in a few scenes. On the other hand, other scenes almost felt like they were from a TV movie, which left an overall impression that the direction was uneven. The use of black and white during flashbacks, albeit arguably clichéd, was an artistic choice that paid off visually, as those scenes do look great. That being said, this highly stylized violence left me with mixed feelings, as it certainly contradicts the film's whole point. On that same note, I don't know if the use of slow motion was a result of New Line and Norton's input that ultimately led to the cut that Kaye disowned, but at times it seriously felt conspicuous.

The film's main appeal lies in Edward Norton's performance, which is intense and excellent. Again, some of the dialogue, in my view, is not on point at all, and contributes to blemish the character, along with the scattered, untidy psychological evolution that he goes through. That being said, every time Norton appears on screen, he does phenomenal work. Other notable performances include those of Edward Furlong, Faizura Balk and Beverly D'Angelo, unfortunately playing characters that lack any trace of a nuance whatsoever.

I know how beloved this film is, and I know that this review will probably be very unpopular. I'm not arguing that "American History X" does not have a strong and important message, or some really touching moments. Not at all. However, such an important subject matter deserved a more in-depth and thorough look at the psychological evolution of the film's two main characters, because polished visuals and a few tear-inducing moments enhanced with dramatic music and sequences in slow motion are no substitute for that in a film that tackles issues of this magnitude. I find its IMDb score of 8.5 to be quite puzzling, to be absolutely honest.

A longer portion of the film's runtime is spent on showing physical and psychological violence in an ostentatious manner than on exploring the mechanisms through which hatred and violence is conveyed within a group of individuals - or a family. And that is a problem.

Despite having both the best of intentions and ambition, "American History X" is quite a flawed film that shares traits with most melodramatic TV movies: it takes the easy preachy route and uses psychological shortcuts aplenty rather than thoroughly exploring the social issues that are at its core.

"Vox Lux" does not lack in audacity in several respects, to say the least. When it comes to narrative structure, in particular, but also with regard to aesthetics and overall storytelling. The film opens with quite a shocking scene. From there, character development takes many interesting directions, whether it be with regard to the relationship between Celeste and her sister, or with the protagonist as a character, which is strikingly strong-headed and determined, despite having just survived a terrible tragedy at such a young age.

The first half of this film really sparks curiosity and is emotionally engaging. When it comes to the second half, in which we get to meet an older Celeste played by Natalie Portman, the once likeable young woman we'd grown to have empathy for during the first half has become an ego-driven, mentally unstable pop star diva. The transition is abrupt, given that it all happens through a "chapter" transition layered with narration. That time ellipse, to put it mildly, felt clumsier than audacious, as the narrator, who only gets to speak every now and then, reveals pretty pivotal story elements that are never actually shown. This issue is further exacerbated by the fact that, a few times, some of these story elements felt more important than the story parts on which actual screen time is spent. And sometimes, significant screen time, that is. With such an interesting story full of significant events over the course of its first half abruptly jumping into dirty corners within the realm of show business and poisoned relationships, I don't know if this contrast between its halves and the heavy character metamorphosis was supposed to be the main point here, but I honestly struggle to understand the gist of any potential social commentary therein.

The chapters, honestly, feel pretty useless for the most part. The narration was perhaps added to give the story the aspect of some kind of modern tale, which again comes off as quite an unusual approach for this type of film, albeit not particularly effective in practice. Again, why reveal so many interesting past story details via narration, and showing such unimportant ones on-screen throughout the latter half?

"Vox Lux" is nonetheless gorgeously shot and lit. Photography is superb and Brady Corbet's direction is flawless. While the soundtrack isn't my cup of tea musically, I have to admit that it is likely the result of tremendous work and technical prowess. Performances from Raffey Cassidy and Stacy Martin are real show-stealers. Jude Law also does a great job as the manager. On the other hand, it took me quite a while to let Natalie Portman's prominent New York accent sink in, but once I got used to it, I have to recognize that she delivered a complex character with great intensity, while she was playing it (which is only for about half of the film's runtime).

The last twenty minutes of "Vox Lux" had me looking at my watch. Midway through those, I thought "how mind boggling would that be if the credits were to start rolling" after twenty minutes of this stuff? Ten minutes later, that's exactly what was happening. While it was mind boggling (i.e., a huge WTF moment), it also was a huge waste of time, an unsatisfactory ending, and a flawed conclusion to a broken story that fails to drive much of a point home.

So much wasted potential. A clear example that audacity does not always pay off. Or, perhaps, that audacity as an end to achieve can be costly.

I know I'm late (about 16 years!), as it's 2019 and I just watched "Lost in Translation", which received plenty of praise and became almost a cult classic in the eyes of many people since its release in 2003.

Mainly set in a luxurious hotel in Tokyo, "Lost in Translation" is one of those films that slowly cruises its way to its audience's emotions, without ever waving the threat of driving it through agitated dramatic waters en route to a tragic denouement. The somewhat unusual Japanese setting is the perfect landscape for this story of two characters, both of which are quietly going through a life crisis, who each find the other's soul to be of an inexplicably comforting nature. Speaking of unusual, I truly salute the originality in the choices of characters that were made here: Bill Murray plays Bob Harris, a jaded Hollywood actor who's on a work trip to Tokyo to shoot a whiskey commercial, and Scarlett Johansson plays Charlotte, an aspiring writer who is probably barely over half Harris' age, who accompanied her husband, a professional photographer, on a work trip only to spend her days in the hotel room, alone, questioning herself about who she is while her husband is working endless hours.

Through their respective struggles, all of which are depicted with the kind of subtlety that never disrupts the tone of the film, both characters are magnetically brought to one another, despite both being married. As Harris says at some point in the film, when speaking about marriage: "you can drive it but there's still the occasional accident". "Lost in Translation" precisely depicts one of those accidents, but in a very unusual way. Actually, it does so in a very soothing way, where momentarily lost souls find meaningful comfort with one another, instead of two bodies quenching lust. This film is not about infidelity. This film is mostly about these people that life puts in your path and that change it forever, in circumstances that make it impossible for them to remain a part of it. There is a truly bittersweet feeling throughout the film to which anybody who has traveled and made significant although ephemeral encounters will be able to relate. It is hard to explain, but this film shook me more than I suspected it would.

Sofia Coppola finished the film with a (quiet) emotional bang, at least in my view, with both characters whispering in each other's ear something inaudible to the audience. It was one of those brilliant cinematic moments that elevates a film to a higher level, and allows it to stay with the viewer for a while.

The direction sets the tone perfectly, with the kind of delicacy that brings a great clash between those vibrant and colourful Japanese cities and the characters' state of mind. The film also packs great visuals and cinematography. Seeing the reflection of those endless neon lights and buildings on the window overlay a contemplative and thoughtful Charlotte sitting in the back of a taxi was a pure visual delight. The soundtrack also features a great musical selection.

Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson both do an incredible job at giving depth to their characters with even the simplest of actions, and bring life to a quite unique chemistry.

This is a comedy in many ways, but it tackles themes that would usually warrant using a dramatic tone, without ever employing it, and without ever dipping even its toes into the realm of clichés. And that, in itself, is quite admirable.

To anyone who watched the first few episodes, thinks they were pretty good and is wondering whether he/she should invest more hours of their time watching this series, this review is exactly for you.

From the get-go, "You" has a relatively conventional premise: Joe, some bookstore manager, falls in love at first sight and becomes obsessed with some aspiring female writer, Beck. Despite this, the first few episodes are somewhat interesting: Joe has his own ironic way of articulating his thoughts through narration, with just the right amount of disdain for all these boldly clichéd, despicable characters that surround Beck. I am talking about Benji, some archetypical, douchey fortunate son, who's (obviously!) vegan and gluten-free, has his own soda company and plays with Beck's easily fooled heart. Yeah, you read that right, that's how stereotypical the writers went with this one. But buckle up, he's not the only one: I'm also talking about Peach, and Beck's entourage of shallow, Instagram-obsessed type friends, who are as snobby and as self-absorbed as they come.

At first, these stereotypical characters all seem like a big joke, a bunch of idiots who the audience will delightfully watch Joe outsmart and probably eliminate one by one. You'd think there will be some social commentary with plenty of bite in there, as Joe stalks and disses the social media profiles of different characters. If you watched the first few episodes, you're probably thinking that a sardonic tone is being set, as it seems unconceivable that any writer in the world would create such characters with any intent, at some point, to make anyone like or even tolerate them. You're probably thinking that you're in for a show where you'll be brought to the morally ambiguous dilemma of whether you should be "rooting" for Joe. But don't get lured in just yet...Because after a few episodes, the deceit becomes obvious and everything is a complete mess, thanks to poor writing.

The core of the mess, actually, lies mainly within the character of Beck. While, at first, she seems like a nice, emotionally vulnerable girl caught up in the middle of a circle of fake people, every time you are about to feel sympathy for her, she does something devaluating. It literally becomes a gimmick mid-way through the season. After a relatively short while, it becomes absolutely annoying, and you actually don't care for her anymore.

When it comes to Joe, while he has a few good lines here and there, his obsessive behavior ends up nullifying any of his earlier displayed smarts, and he becomes amazingly pathetic. In this regard, the writers made Beck so unlikeable that it's barely believable that even the most desperate fool in this world would still have the slightest bit of interest towards her. As they show flashbacks of him in a previous relationship, you get to understand that he's just a psychopathic, hopeless romantic who's also a magnet for slutty and confused ladies, which makes him even more pathetic.

As the series goes on, the interactions between the two main characters become annoyingly gimmicky, and you'd just wish they'd both get hit by a truck, seriously. Through midway of the season, the story becomes quite a drag of the same gimmicks and every twist and turn is highly predictable. You find yourself thinking this should have been a film or a miniseries.

There is also plenty of nonsense throughout the season: Joe keeps stalking Beck and her friends and follows them everywhere they go, always staying close enough so he can hear what they say in public places like bars and restaurants. Obviously, they never notice him...he's wearing a cap! Of course they won't! But hey, they'll notice a private investigator following them in the blink of an eye, though. And Beck's apartment, what a great view it gives to anyone passing on that New York City street, right at RC level! On the other hand, she's portrayed as such a dumb and naive gal, it's almost believable that it never crossed her mind that she'd probably need curtains. And what about these people who suddenly disappear, but Joe sends a tweet or two from their stolen phone, so everyone thinks they're alive and well.

There is one subplot that fostered a hint of interest, and that's Joe's relationship with Paco, the boy who lives in the apartment next to his. Unfortunately, this relationship remains underdeveloped, and the whole purpose of that subplot ends up being minimal.

All in all, the boldness of the stereotypes at the core of almost each character made me believe there would be plenty of sardonic humour aimed at millennial bourgeois hipsters, but no, these are the characters populating the entire show, and none are likeable. NONE, besides Paco.

Whatever trace of an ambiguous dilemma it successfully achieved to create during the first few episodes is barely a flash in the pan, and fades away about as quickly as Beck and Joe's senselessness gets unveiled. Then, you are left wishing the worse for both characters, or simply wishing you hadn't been baited into watching this poorly written show.