The older I get, the more and more I protect my time. I assume that this is a natural function of aging, in order to become more aware of the finite number of moments that we are granted on this earth. I believe this need to make good use of the little time you have for yourself is keenly felt by many, especially in the grinders of today’s machines. capitalism, where “free time” for many became an abstraction, the concept of which was undermined by the disappearance of permanent work and the emergence of an unreliable patchwork of “freelance” work. Any time you get for yourself is priceless. Perhaps the most precious thing in the world.
All you have to say is fuck you, Netflix. Fuck you for making me flush 1 hour and 47 minutes of my Friday night down the toilet. Friday evening, Netflix! Do you understand what this means? Can you understand the holiness of that time? This is the time for pubs, for friends, for books, for chatter and joy. Well, everyone will have their own version, and it won’t be the same for everyone, but for Monday-Friday workers like me, Friday night is special. This is the most important moment of the week when I can take a breath, forget about work and think about other things. Good things though – that’s the key point. Not a tasteless porridge, which Spider.
Spider is the last –sigh— a Netflix movie suggestion, a set of words that, at that moment, causes an involuntary reflex in my facial muscles, resulting in a result similar to what I imagine a long-suffering parent’s expression does when called from their child’s school to tell from another dog feces and vomit incident. Spider Directed by Joseph KosinskiTop Shooter: Maverick), written by screenwriting duo Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick (Zombieland, Dead Pool), starring Chris Hemsworth, Miles Teller and Jurnee Smollett. However, it’s almost pointless to list the people involved in its creation, because regardless of whether they’re experienced or not, their contributions and imprints seem to be polished and pressed into a frictionless cube by the Netflix machine with the same ruthless efficiency usually associated with Marvel. assembly line school of “film production”.
Nothing characterizes it like the participation of cinematographer Claudio Miranda. I personally would not put him in the first place among the specialists in his field, but Miranda, nevertheless, is undoubtedly a talented artist, with a sense of spectacle, vivid composition and interesting framing that is evident in all his works (Top Shooter: Maverick, oblivion, TRON: Legacy, Life of Pi). AT Spider, you can feel the craftsmanship going out of its way to counter whatever numbing curse Netflix puts on its productions, as Miranda goes out of her way, moments of visual curiosity and intrigue pop up here and there from time to time before a tide overwhelms her. soft, anonymous scenery and interchangeable rows of featureless corridors and interview rooms and endless stretches of concrete, glass and plastic. Miranda has already worked as a cinematographer for director Kosinski several times, and the other day I saw someone tweet the following:
Joseph Kosinski is incapable of making an ugly film. pic.twitter.com/4519Y8ygzQ
— Brendan Hodges (@metaplexmovies) June 18, 2022
I think Netflix proves you wrong, friend! The most interesting to see in Spider Nathan Jones, a stalwart Australian actor, is best known in recent times for his memorable performance as Rictus Erectus in George Miller’s modern-day masterpiece. Mad Max: Fury Road. Jones has a minor role here, he only appears on screen for a few minutes, but his tattooed features and presence on screen is the only thing I remember. Spider within a few days. In such a dramatically gaudy script, rife with obnoxious attempts at humor, his brief appearance actually made me laugh and care about what was happening on screen, at least for a moment. Thanks for that Mr. Jones, I’d rather see a movie about your character than the one they gave me.
I wrote five paragraphs about Spiderand I haven’t gotten to the point of what it really is yet about. It’s because it doesn’t matter. Its plot, as it stands, follows the inmates of a strange, futuristic prison located on an unnamed island, where they are free to roam without strict confinement, interacting with the staff and enjoying the amenities most commonly associated with comfortable living. resort. The only catch? They are to take part in experimental drug testing by what looks like a prison guard and kind of scientist (Hemsworth). All the inmates of this prison volunteered to be there, agreeing to the ups and downs of whatever sci-fi cocktail they would pump into their bodies in exchange for a shorter sentence than they had previously served in a regular prison. Our protagonist (Teller) – although I find it difficult to use the term for someone so flat and uninteresting – and his relationship – again, I find it difficult to use such a word for something so two-dimensional – with Hemsworth, as well as with his own dark —again the fightThe past is the central theme of the film.
I have never read “Escape from the Head of the Spider,” a story by George Saunders that Spider based, but I’d be surprised if it wasn’t better than what Netflix has brought us here. Perhaps it only works as a short story, its characters remain just sketches, and its themes and speculative fiction play a central role. What the movie does is stretch it out into a feature length while forgetting to add any depth to its characters – I can’t give you a single defining trait of anyone here – and remaining uninterested in conveying any message or consistent tone. Sometimes he tries to make you laugh, sometimes he wants to scare you, and in the end he wants to touch the strings of your heart. It fails on every attempt. There are twists and turns here that are as predictable as they are nonsensical, the slow unfolding of the characters’ backstories hardly elicits a shrug because it’s impossible to care about anyone. There’s an embarrassing attempt to smear everything right at the very end by using a one-time instance of an 80s-style voice-over that not only fails, but somehow makes everything that came before even worse. At one point, Roxy Music’s “More Than This” unfolds in an attempt to use its power to reach something deeper, but all it does is sound like one of Sofia Coppola’s songs. Lost in translation— and it’s a bloody stupid strategy to draw a direct comparison to a movie that has real emotion, humanity, and craftsmanship.
Strikingly weightless, aesthetically dull, filled with cardboard cutouts – that’s the guarantee of a Netflix movie! Or whatever you want to call it. Because it’s not a movie.
Give me back my Friday night, fools.
‘Keep Sweet’ is a true crime worth your time |
Header Image Source: Netflix