Arkane Studios and Bethesda released Dishonored: Death of the Outsider yesterday. I’ve played it to the end, and I have a lot of thoughts and feelings. Thought I’d share them. Warning: spoilers.
I could write you a five-page essay on why I loved Wonder Woman, dir. Patty Jenkins. Well, I have a week off soon, so I actually might, but tonight I am tired and in desperate need of a nap, so I’ll keep it brief.
So, what happened was that Series 10 so far has been really solid mystery storytelling, and I’ve been enjoying it a lot. And then, apparently, Steven Moffat had an idea for a blockbuster.
On April 26th, Hulu is premiering the first episode of its TV adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s prize-winning novel, The Handmaid’s Tale. Frankly, an extensive adaptation of that work couldn’t have come at a better time, and while it’s horrifying that it’s necessary, I’m nonetheless looking forward to it. The Handmaid’s Tale is an excellent novel telling a compelling story; and there’s a reason why now’s the time to tell it.
I’ve recently finished the first season of Emerald City, the NBC TV adaptation of Frank L. Baum’s children’s novel The Wizard of Oz. The show takes many artistic liberties with the text, transforming it into something new, but this meta won’t be a comparison piece between the novel and the show (not least because it’s been ages since I read it). What the many transformations amount to, however, is the fundamental narrative of a man finding fault with his lot in life and taking the opportunity in a new world to reinvent himself — by subjugating others.
Hidden Figures deserves to win all the Academy Awards.
As we’re hurtling towards the inevitably tense and mind-boggling (in either the positive or the negative sense of the word) conclusion of the series (and possibly the show), here’s a few things that I wanted to write about that I haven’t really touched on in my reviews so far.
With Series 10 coming up in 2017, and the Christmas Special 2016 before that, we’re actually back to regular scheduled Who programming (after big international sports events like the Euro ’16 and the Rio Olympics so cruelly robbed us of our aliens of the week and p(l)othole-y plots)!!!
There’s four new heroes in town.
I watched Ghostbusters this past weekend, making it a point to go see it on its opening weekend here in Germany. I’d been looking forward to it pretty much since the first announcements, and definitely since the first casting news. I watched and up-voted the first trailer everywhere I could, I followed the dudebro/misogynist and racist backlash against this movie as well as its actresses, particularly Leslie Jones, with increasing rage. However, I also read so many good things about it from delighted critics (mostly women) and bloggers, celebrating the many things this movie gets right. In short, I was really stoked to finally see it, make up my own mind, and quite frankly: goddamn enjoy myself for a change.
The setup: I haven’t seen the first two movies in over ten years and I frequently confuse plot points between the two, so I can’t really speak to any similarities in plot or story. I did ponder rewatching beforehand, but I realised one crucial thing: I don’t care. Because I had fun.
Big news have broken in the world of Doctor Who this past week. Let’s summarise:
Previously on Sherlock: His Last Vow.
There are no ghosts in this world. Save for the ones we make for ourselves.
This is the story of five minutes in the life of Sherlock Holmes. Five minutes in the real world, but a lifetime in another — in Sherlock’s Mind Palace, to be precise. In the time it takes for the plane to turn around and come back down to land in His Last Vow, as John speaks the foreboding words, “There’s an East Wind coming,” Sherlock has already gone deep into himself, into the recesses of his mind, to solve a mystery that has kept us on the edges of our seats for two years.
How is he alive?