I tried with The New Mutants in August of 2020, but I chickened out when the theater inevitably became not empty (according to the app). Anya Taylor-Joy always takes my breath away, sure, but in theory I was going to need it back.
I swore I wouldn't bail on Tenet in September, my next attempt, but the thought of bringing something home just to see John David Washington solve future crimes from the past (or whatever) felt irresponsible at best. So again, bought the f--king ticket, and stayed the Hell home.
The only time I was ever going to the movies again? I needed it to be safe.
And I needed to be alone.A Quiet Place Part II - the first film I managed to see theatrically since COVID-19 showed up on Earth and f--ked everything. Picking up moments after (and before, sort of) the events of the first film, director John Krasinski's follow-up is nothing short of essential viewing. But that just might be the overpriced popcorn talking...(it isn't).
Though I'm not sure why these f--king creatures came to Earth if they hate noise so goddamned much, I'm nine-hundred percent positive that I love these murderous pricks regardless (despite their poor vacation planning). This time around, the film opens with the terrifying moments when everything went immediately tits up, and it might be the most harrowing ten minutes of either film (and that's saying something, as these flicks are a combined four hours of the audience collectively holding their breath and asses). A normal New England day (which at this point in our lives seems like a Rockwellian fantasy) is jettisoned into the sun, as these creatures appear out of the sky and destroy absolutely everything. It's shocking, scary and surprisingly heartbreaking, considering we already know how this story ends.
Er, how that story ends, as the sequel picks up with the now fatherless Abbott family trudging along a picturesque wasteland simmering with carnage and chaos. Somehow, Evelyn (Emily Blunt, my friggin' hero) has kept what's left of her brood alive, but when we meet back up with them, they have left their farm and are in search of others. Cool move, right? Well, it would be, if her young son hadn't stepped in a f--king beartrap, with his guttural screams further angering the space monsters and such. Yeah, her husband's dead, she's got a flippin' newborn in a suitcase, and her son's reliving the ending of Saw in an abandoned steel mill. F-k. This. Guess her daughter is going to have to step up and save the day.
From there, Part II keeps things feeling a lot like its predecessor [review], you know, with the overwhelming sense of get me the f--k outta here. These poor people can never catch a break, ever, so if you ever get the feeling you can finally unclench your butthole, just know - that's when the serious shit is coming.
Speaking of horribly-worded awfulness, here are the Yays and Boos. I recently read something about a third film expanding the AQP universe a bit, and while I'd be okay if they didn't, I'll also totally be there when they do.
|Me, to no one else in the theater.|
- Totally unrelated, but the lady in the next line over? She might have been pushing eighty, eighty-five. And to my great delight, she steps up, and like a true OG drops the line, Gimme one for F9.
- A little less unrelated, it was kind of nice not taking my seventy-year old mother to Part II and her gotdamned pistachios.
- Alright Krasinski, you had me at nice New England day with the Sox on the radio. I wasn't even mad that you ruined it with one of the most chaotic alien invasions ever. (holy shit this movie starts like it was shot out of a f--king cannon)
- Wait. Music? Really? I didn't think that was even allowed, but I'll effing take it.
- Man, this older brother kid, I know he's not the legend his sister it, but, c'mon - what a friggin' champ this poor bastard turns out to be.
- Whoa whoa whoa - my plate is already full of Cillian Murphy. No one told me I had to leave room for some Djimon Hounsou (uh, there are few people I love more in a movie than Djimon Hounsou).
- There's kind of a large part of this movie that might be a secret to some of you and that's fine. But when shit goes south there (even though I didn't want it to) it was amazing.
- And finally, as I might have touched on before, what an absolute thrill it was to be back seeing a movie in the theater. And even better, a good movie that really lends itself to the theatrical experience. Oh, I'm sure Tenet would have been badass on the big screen, but I'm sure it'll be just as sweet on my phone, too.
- A f--king bear trap? Honestly? (read this like who throws a shoe?) I get it, sure, typically you're going to catch someone who wants to kill you, or something that wants to eat you - but still...it's kind of a dick move when you catch a kid who wants to do neither.
- Being alone in the theater didn't make feel any less of an asshole for doing a quarter backflip with that jump-scare on the train. The moly was definitely holy right there.
- I'm glad the creature is dead, no doubt, but shooting it from behind with the girl directly in front of you? Seems risky, at best (as is not shooting it, I get it, thanks prick).
- Even if we were in a fully-functioning society, if we're in a situation where we need more baby oxygen, things have gone horribly awry. But in a monster-infested f--ktown? Not great.
- I realize I praised Big Brother up there in the Yays, but I have to admit, that dude made some bonehead moves, right? His towel-management skills aren't exactly top-shelf, if I'm honest.
- The fact that one of these sonvabitches stowed away was a pretty giant stroke of shit luck.
- And finally, as I mentioned before, if these motherf--kers hate noise so much, right, what exactly was their plan when they invaded Earth? Was it because they just wanted to f--k shit up regardless, a simple navigational error (the moon would've been their jam) or was their home-planet just the sounds of a full-on oil-free robot orgy cranked to eleven twenty four hours a day? Either way, they're huge noise-hating dickheads spending too much time in the wrong motherf--king place at the wrong motherf--king time (which is, likely, exactly how my students describe me).