Sucks.
Wow, that was one of the worst movies I've seen in a long time. The only reason I didn't leave and got anything out of it at all was due to the fact it was time alone (out, in public) with the wife sans baby, it was her birthday present to me, I liked the original as a child, and it was my first time seeing a movie in 3D.
The script was terrible, as was the plot - but that was true of the first film, too. The wife chortled half way through that the movie was an adolescent boy's (metaphorical, hyperbolic) wet dream - giant scorpions, sword fights, boats, kings, monsters, myth, etc. This is true, and I had a rather too extended period of infatuation with D&D, et al, so... Like D&D, they also threw in total non sequitors like jinn. Huh? "Hey, it's old and magically mysterious and cool, let's throw that in there, too. Any way to fit in the pyramids or the Celts, too? That stuff always sells."
If a movie is going to be that bad with production costs (and aspirations) that high, they should have really great special effects (Medusa was terrible, so, too, were the jinn and the gods' silvery outfits) and spring for some really, supremely, almost embarrassingly beautiful women - which they didn't. (If they had had one or two really hot European or Latin chicks I think they could have just squeaked it by as tolerable eye candy, but alas, all they had were the pretty girls from some West End production of something or other).
It also felt like the director had spent too much time in the theatre - a lot of the scenes may have worked on stage, but on film they were an odd combination of too little action and over the top, all at once. Whoever he was, he ain't no Peter Brook; this adaptation blew chunks. As for the actors, they really needed a few slightly unbalanced Grotowski and Lecoq devotees, heck, even a student of Michael Chekhov.
It was also sort of embarrassing to see Ralph Fiennes, Liam Neeson and Pete Postelthwaite in such dreck, but hey, Sir Laurence Olivier was in the first one along with Claire Bloom and Dame Maggie Smith. (Incidentally, I once did a master class with Claire Bloom on the performance of Shakespeare's sonnets; I received no corrections). I told the wife I thought the original Clash of the Titans might have been the last film Olivier made before he died; she said it probably killed him.
It may be a good renter, a good rainy Saturday afternoon on TV movie to drowse in and out to, and maybe (?!) a good movie to see in the theatre if you're looking for a completely brainless thing to do.
But, wow, what a crappy, crap-house, super crap-o-la movie. I'm a little embarrassed I saw it , in public, and paid Manhattan prices to do so. Ouch.
Wow, that was one of the worst movies I've seen in a long time. The only reason I didn't leave and got anything out of it at all was due to the fact it was time alone (out, in public) with the wife sans baby, it was her birthday present to me, I liked the original as a child, and it was my first time seeing a movie in 3D.
The script was terrible, as was the plot - but that was true of the first film, too. The wife chortled half way through that the movie was an adolescent boy's (metaphorical, hyperbolic) wet dream - giant scorpions, sword fights, boats, kings, monsters, myth, etc. This is true, and I had a rather too extended period of infatuation with D&D, et al, so... Like D&D, they also threw in total non sequitors like jinn. Huh? "Hey, it's old and magically mysterious and cool, let's throw that in there, too. Any way to fit in the pyramids or the Celts, too? That stuff always sells."
If a movie is going to be that bad with production costs (and aspirations) that high, they should have really great special effects (Medusa was terrible, so, too, were the jinn and the gods' silvery outfits) and spring for some really, supremely, almost embarrassingly beautiful women - which they didn't. (If they had had one or two really hot European or Latin chicks I think they could have just squeaked it by as tolerable eye candy, but alas, all they had were the pretty girls from some West End production of something or other).
It also felt like the director had spent too much time in the theatre - a lot of the scenes may have worked on stage, but on film they were an odd combination of too little action and over the top, all at once. Whoever he was, he ain't no Peter Brook; this adaptation blew chunks. As for the actors, they really needed a few slightly unbalanced Grotowski and Lecoq devotees, heck, even a student of Michael Chekhov.
It was also sort of embarrassing to see Ralph Fiennes, Liam Neeson and Pete Postelthwaite in such dreck, but hey, Sir Laurence Olivier was in the first one along with Claire Bloom and Dame Maggie Smith. (Incidentally, I once did a master class with Claire Bloom on the performance of Shakespeare's sonnets; I received no corrections). I told the wife I thought the original Clash of the Titans might have been the last film Olivier made before he died; she said it probably killed him.
It may be a good renter, a good rainy Saturday afternoon on TV movie to drowse in and out to, and maybe (?!) a good movie to see in the theatre if you're looking for a completely brainless thing to do.
But, wow, what a crappy, crap-house, super crap-o-la movie. I'm a little embarrassed I saw it , in public, and paid Manhattan prices to do so. Ouch.
Reference: http://orrologion.blogspot.com/2010/04/clash-of-titans.html
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