YouTube s'invite sur PS Vita

Ce n'est une surprise pour personne. Comme prévu, YouTube arrive enfin sur nos PS Vita, s'ajoutant ainsi au catalogue des applications gratuites pour la dernière portable de Sony. Si YouTube est déjà disponible pour nos amis américains, il va falloir attendre encore quelques heures pour pour pouvoir profiter de ce nouveau service.

Le célèbre service de vidéos ne devrait pas dépayser les possesseurs de PC puisqu'il permet de regarder les vidéos en WiFi et en 3G. On y retrouve un moteur de recherche, des vidéos recommandées, l'indispensable historique et la possibilité de créer des listes de favoris à regarder en petit ou en plein écran. Bien entendu, la console permet de regarder les vidéos en SD ou en 720p selon nos préférences (et la qualité de notre connexion).

Rappelons au passage que les soldes continuent de battre leur plein sur le PlayStation Store. Cette semaine, c'est le catalogue PSP qui est mis à l'honneur. Si l'on ne connait pas encore les titres en question, ce ne sont pas moins d'une cinquantaine de hits dont le prix passera à la moulinette selon le PlayStation Blog. Enfin, vous pourrez faire baisser le prix du jeu Unit 13 à 19,99 euros en vous inscrivant à la newsletter Inside PS Vita avant le 29 juin.

· Découvrir la liste des jeux soldés sur le PS Blog

SFXT - Street Fighter X Tekken Capcom défend ses DLC

L'affaire des DLC de Street Fighter X Tekken continue de faire du bruit de l'autre côté de l'atlantique. Pour rappel, la découverte de 12 personnages supplémentaires sur le disque du jeu, bloqués jusqu'en octobre prochain pour les vendre sous forme de DLC, avait suscité une vague de grogne de la part des joueurs. Ces derniers ont d'ailleurs été se plaindre auprès de l'association de consommateurs Better Business Bureau, un équivalent américain de l'UFC-Que Choisir. Et voici ce que Capcom a répondu à l'association en question :

Street Fighter X Tekken possède un contenu énorme, est un produit fini et permet d'être joué et apprécié immédiatement avec le contenu présent sur le disque. Il y a 38 personnages disponibles de base, de nombreux modes de jeu et permet de s'amuser avec dès le premier jour. Capcom est désolé de voir que certains de ses fans ne sont pas content de la méthode utilisée pour acheminer les DLC, mais nous pensons que celle-ci permettra plus de flexibilité et de rendre le jeu plus pratique tout au long de son cycle de vie. Il n'y a aucune distinction entre un DLC déjà présent sur le disque débloquable plus tard et un DLC disponible uniquement en téléchargement. La seule chose qui change, c'est sa méthode d'acheminement.


Comprenez donc par là que Capcom ne voit toujours pas le problème du DLC déjà présent sur le disque, et que pour l'éditeur il s'agit d'un DLC comme un autre. En d'autre termes, Capcom nous explique qu'on devrait être bien content d'avoir déjà autant de personnages de base, et que les joueurs n'ont pas à se mêler de ce qui est, ou non, sur le disque qu'ils ont acheté 70 €. Une réponse fort sympathique.

· Lire le test de Street Fighter X Tekken
· Forum Street Fighter X Tekken

Bientôt des logiciels sur Steam

Steam est depuis bien des années la plus grosse plateforme de téléchargement PC (et Mac). Chaque jour, ce sont des milliers de jeux qui sont achetés et téléchargés via ce géant du marché dématérialisé. L'occasion était trop alléchante pour que Valve la laisse passer.

Dès le 5 septembre prochain, Steam devrait accueillir ses premiers logiciels informatiques, premiers d'une longue série. Antivirus, logiciels de montages, de retouche d'images, tous les types de logiciels devraient faire leur apparition sur la célèbre plateforme. Reste à savoir si ces derniers profiteront eux aussi des soldes si chères aux joueurs.

MET - Mass Effect débarque en édition intégrale

Après de Splinter Cell, God of war ou encore Prince of Persia, c'est au tour de Mass Effect de se doter d'une édition regroupant l'ensemble de ses épisodes. Intelligemment nommée Mass Effect Trilogy, cette édition complète permettra aux retardataires de découvrir à moindre coût la saga spatiale de BioWare.

Prévue sur PC, XBox 360 et Ps3, cette Mass Effect Trilogy devrait débarquer à partir du 6 novembre prochain aux Amériques, et deux jours plus tard, soit le 8, en nos vertes contrées. Du moins, pour les version PC et XBox 360, car, comme à l'habitude, la version PS3 se voit gratifiée d'un magnifique "plus tard". Pour ce qui est du prix, il devrait tourner autours des 50 euros pour la version PC, contre 60 pour les versions consoles.

Que les utilisateurs de PS3 se rassurent, cependant, car nous avons aussi pu apprendre que le premier épisode de la saga devrait bientôt être disponible sur le PSN, sans plus de précisions. Reste cependant une inconnue : les divers contenus additionnels (DLC), seront-ils inclus dans cette édition qui se veut exhaustive ? A l'heure actuelle, nous n'en savons rien, mais peut-être seront nous en mesure d'en apprendre plus à l'occasion du N7 Day qui se déroulera le 7 novembre prochain.

· Forum Mass Effect Trilogy

2012-12-21-421

Acer US confirms Android 4 (ICS) for Iconia A500 and A100 in April

Acer US has just confirmed in a Tweet that not only will its Iconia Tab A500 be getting an Android 4.0 update in April, but the company is also going to provide Iconia A100 users with some Ice Cream Sandwich goodness while theyre at it (presumably at the same time).

Acer US tweet said, "To all Acer Iconia Tab A500 and A100 users, please expect an Ice Cream Sandwich upgrade in mid-April! Thank you for your patience".

April is also the month that Acer has indicated it will be rolling out its ICS running, Tegra-3 powered Iconia Tab A510.

Were still left wondering when the ICS update for the A100 and A500 tablets will be available in other regions, but no doubt Acer will reveal all sometime soon.

halloween horrors 2011 “it’s alive”

Sooner or later it always seems to come back to Larry Cohen around here, doesn’t it?

And hell, why not? For well over tow decades (closer to three, really), he’s been at the forefront of two of the more venerable B-movie categories that fall frequently under our purview, namely horror and blaxploitation. And while his undisputed best piece of work in any field is the Fred “The Hammer” Williamson starring vehicle Black Caesar, his finest foray into the horror field (in my own humble opinion, at any rate) is 1974′s retelling of the Frankenstein myth (only this time with a baby), It’s Alive.

The set-up is as simple as you’d probably expect — ready-to-pop Lenore Davis (Sharon Farrell) heads to the hospital with her husband, well-to-do advertising executive Frank (John P. Ryan, listed here simply as John Ryan) to give birth, but when the baby comes out it turns out to be a hideous, hugely-fanged mutant with an insatiable appetite for blood that first kills everyone in the delivery room (except mommy) and then escapes into the night. When an unscrupulous TV news reporter actually has the gall to broadcast the names of the parents of this freak of nature, things get even worse for Frank as he finds himself out of work due to the bad publicity the manhunt (or should that be kidhunt) for his offspring brings to his Madison Avenue firm.

Things, obviously, aren’t all that they seem (and they seem pretty strange to say the least), for while It’s Alive preys deliciously on then-contemporary fears of genetic mutation as a result of pollution and what have you, there’s obviously more to the whole thing than just accidental enviro-poisoning going on here, since the Davis family’s eldest child, 11-year-old Christopher, is perfectly normal.

Truth be told, though, while there’s a dark (of sorts) secret at the heart of this film, and the gore effects are pretty darn good for their time (and still hold up pretty well against some of today’s lower-budget efforts), it’s really the tow lead performances that carry this film, with Farrell’s Lenore going through the stages of slow-burn total breakdown, while Ryan’s Frank becomes a mask of steely resolve as he comes, and then sticks, to the conclusion that his own flesh and blood must be destroyed for the good of both society at large as well as, frankly, himself and his family.

It’s Alive is available on DVD from Warner Brothers in a 3-pack set that also includes its two somewhat-less-than-stellar sequels (it was also remade for the straight-to-video market in 2008, but the less about that particular fiasco the better). The remastered widescreen picture and stereo soundtrack are both great, and it includes the trailer and a pretty solid commentary track from writer-director Cohen. Given that the whole set is usually available at bargain-basement prices, it’s definitely a worthwhile purchase.

I’m not going to tell you that It’s Alive is a classic, or even anything of the sort, but like all Cohen films, it has modest aspirations and exceeds them at every turn. From a solid plot to genuinely terrific lead performances to effectively atmospheric cinematography and lighting to a fair dose of intrigue to a non-heavy-handed exploration of contemporary sociopolitical issues to a nicely- inflated body count to extremely-competently-executed effects, it delivers a lot more than it promises and ends up being a hell of a lot more enjoyable than it probably has any right to be.

I don’t know about you, but for me, that all adds up to a very enjoyable evening in front of the TV, particularly at this time of year.

lars von trier’s “antichrist” and the triumph of pretense

Apparently, on at least one occasion during the publicity blitz for his latest film, “Antichrist,” Lars von Trier has referred to himself as the world’s greatest living director. Really. Not only is this a mistaken opinion, it’s just plain factually inaccurate, and “Antichrist” is ample proof of this, because the world’s greatest living director would, presumably, have at least something to say, and von Trier quite clearly does not.

This is not to say that the film doesn’t have some things going for it. It’s almost painfully beautiful to look at at times, and almost each and every shot is worth framing as a museum piece. Unfortunately, it’s exquisite craftsmanship in service of nothing, as the “deep” and “meaningful” themes that von Trier spends the entire film announcing at top volume that he’s purportedly exploring are, in fact, nowhere to be found. von Trier has pretentiously dedicated this film to Tarkovsky, but has apparently only absorbed the techniques of?surface visual majesty?mastered by?the Russian great while learning nothing from him of the art of truly exploring dark and harrowing subject matter. It’s rather like tracing an outline of the Mona Lisa and having the temerity to “dedicate” the finished “product” to da Vinci.

The most consistent criticism of von Trier’s previous work is that he’s used shock value to cover for the fact that his material is actually painfully superficial and half-understood, and while that’s an accurate enough summation of the inherent weaknesses of films like “Dancer in the Dark” and “Breaking the Waves,” it’s double, triply, quadruply true for the masturbatory, self-indulgent mess that is “Antichrist.” Never, in this reviewer’s memory,? has so little been insistently and vociferously packaged as being so much. von Trier’s stilted and hackneyed dialogue, so wretched it makes Ed Wood’s worst excesses seem naturalistic,? literally screams “Look at me! I’m important!” from start to finish, but announcing one’s importance and actually having any are far from being the same thing, a lesson that von Trier has, painfully and obviously, not yet learned.

And truth be told, that’s the damned thing not only about film, but about all art in this fallen world of ours — yes, cinema, novels, poetry, painting, all forms of artistic self-expression are important — unfortunately, in this day and age, the overwhelming majority of people with the free time, financial resources, and wherewithal to produce it aren’t. It’s wonderful that?folks have something to say and a well-nigh endless variety of mediums in which to say it, but that doesn’t mean that most of those who are doing so are worth listening to. Self-absorbed, self-indulgent, overwrought pretentiousness is crap no matter how skillfully it’s communicated or how boisterously it declares its own perceived greatness. von Trier has a definite gift at the art of visual communication, but to date the messages he’s conveyed have bordered on complete worthlessness, and with “Antichrist” he finally crosses that border without trepidation. It’s a giant headfirst leap into complete and utter pointlessness, a madman laughing with abandon as he pisses in his audience’s face for no other reason than he can,? and then has the temerity to tell them they’re not worthy to drink it.

von Trier’s trajectory is clear from the get-go, as first we get his name splashed across the screen (not “a film by Lars von Trier,” or “a Lars von Trier film,”?just “Lars von Trier”), then we get the movie’s title card, then we get thrust into the “epilogue,” a scene of black-and-white operatic beauty as the lead characters, He and She (they’re never given names, and frankly don’t do anything in the film to deserve them, although both roles are tackled with consummate professionalism by Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg, respectively, who both deserve far better material than they’re given here), fuck in the shower while their toddler-age son, Nic, tumbles out an open window to his death. Yes, we see some quick full-on sexual penetration here, but the real “pornography” here is von Trier choosing to film a child’s death in slow-motion elegance. It’s the first of countless instances of him trying to be “shocking” and “transgressive” that completely miss the mark and end up being more cheap and exploitative than even Shaun Costello or Zebedy Colt on their worst days.

Quickly we learn that He is a therapist, though not a Ph.D., and She is, or was, a graduate student working (when she does) on her thesis, the topic of which is, I kid you not, “gynocide.” And like the filmmaker himself, their trajectory is also painfully plain to see from the outset, as they are trapped in a downward — hell, a doomward — spiral right out of the gate. She can’t cope with the loss of their son while He, at least on the surface, is coping all to well and seeks to “cure” her not only as her husband/lover (whether or not they’re actually married is never spelled out), but also as her therapist. They try to work through things at their posh artist loft-type home, but when that doesn’t work out, it’s off to the wilderness and isolation when they retreat to a cabin they presumably own in a deep, dense forest called — yawn — Eden.

Let’s be honest, we don’t need von Trier to hit us over the head with the idea that city folk who head out to the woods are fucked, it’s been a constant theme in horror cinema for years, and von Trier, for all his visual aplomb, doesn’t do the concept nearly as much as justice as, say, James Bryan did in “Don’t Go In The Woods,” to pick just one example out of literally hundreds.

Oh, but von Trier has so much more to say here than just that. Doesn’t he? Why, just ask him. And therein lies the problem. Underneath all the overstated psychodrama — is He really looking to help She, or is He seeking to draw her more deeply into his web of manipulation and control? Is She really imbalanced, or does She merely accurately sense the threat He poses to her freedom? Does He even really care about She, or is He merely seeking to gratify his own ego by “curing” her? Are both of them merely stand-ins for the silent tyranny that underscores all male-female interpersonal relationships? — there just isn’t much there. It’s as if von Trier thinks the act of stating that he’s “delving into” these larger themes is tantamount to actually doing so. Sorry, Lars, bot no amount of grandiloquence can disguise the fact that the median temperature of this film is ice cold and that the “passions” at its core are pure plastic.

He is never shown to be anything more than a two-dimensional manipulative bastard and She is a raw, emotionally imbalanced basket case who only feels alive when being fucked, being hurt, or both at once. He is pure calculation, She pure emotion, and both are out of control in their own respective fashion. Of course, She is the one we’re supposed to have some modicum of sympathy for, being that von Trier is an enlightened type of guy, and even when She’s screwing a 20-pound wight through the flesh and bond of He’s ankle in order to hold him down, the message is that She is fighting back, asserting her control and independence through the only avenue He has left her, namely by imprisoning him physically in the same manner he has imprisoned her psychically and emotionally. There’s this supposedly bold, anti- misogynist (wow, talk about going out on a limb — misogyny is bad? Why, I had no idea. What?tough stand will he take next? Is genocide evil, too? Murder? Rape? Torture? Damn, talk about gutsy!)?statement at the heart of the proceedings here, you see.

Or maybe you don’t. You could be forgiven for missing it, certainly, since the overall tone of the film is, in fact, relentlessly misogynistic and even downright sadistic. Not that your reviewer is necessarily averse to the idea that hitting an audience over the head with an idea, and indeed even incorporating the worst excesses of said idea, is often the best way to expose that idea and to subvert its power. On the contrary, one of my favorite films of all time is “Cannibal Holocaust,” which deftly and expertly incorporates the techniques of “mondo” or “shockumentary” filmmaking in order to to lay bare its grotesque excesses (incidentally, this is a movie that has only gained power and resonance over the years with the advent of “reality” television and DIY, “YouTube”/handheld-style filmmaking, but I digress), but Deodato was willing to throw caution to the wind and to cross the very lines he was condemning in order to communicate his point — to make himself a hypocrite in order to make his film both honest and genuinely harrowing. It’s shocking not only for what it shows but for the power with which it shows it, power that can only come from absolute authenticity.? von Trier hasn’t even got the guts to give his “deep and resonant” themes anything more than the most cursory glance. He gives us a story of two bourgeois characters “inflicted” with shallow bourgeois problems? and thinks he’s addressing universal themes when, in truth, we actively want both of these people to die, and the sooner the better, their “inner turmoil” be damned. And therein lies another missed opportunity — in order to give a fuck about these people’s problems, we’ve got to give a fuck about these people in the first place, and we’re never given a reason to do so. Two upper-class, self-absorbed slimebags have tragedy visited upon them? Too bad for the kid,absolutely, but given that von Trier himself chose to film his death in such an artistically prurient and, yes, pretentious manner, we never feel too much heartache or loss there — in fact, the child and his death are just a tool to be used for the filmmaker to get at the “meat” of the purported psychodrama that plays out between the couple themelves, a means to an end, nothing more.? But that end is nothing but the cinematic equivalent of a lifeless suburban cul-de-sac — traveled to in style, I’ll grant you that, but it still doesn’t mask the barren worthlessness of the destination itself.? Sure, von Trier’s knock-out punches connect on occasion ( the talking fox, for instance, actually works), but they’re delivered with weighted gloves — his actual fists themselves have no power.

And so “Antichrist” is testament to nothing more than the power of artifice. It’s pretense declared as meaning, gutlessness self-proclaimed as bravery, the US invading Grenada in order to declare the world “safe for democracy,” all delivered by a filmmaker who’s gotten in deep over his head without ever leaving the shallow end of the pool. The stated intent of “Antichrist” is to challenge the viewer every single fucking step of the way, but in the end the only challenge is to sit through the whole thing to the end.

There’s symbolism aplenty, delivered time and time again, in the form of a pregnant doe and the aforementioned talking fox and the fictional “three beggars” constellation, and acorns falling on the roof of the cabin, but in order to interpret it successfully, or even unsuccessfully, first you have to actually actively care about what it all might mean. “Antichrist” never gives you reason to. It’s just two solid hours of celluloid navel-gazing for its own sake. Apparently von Trier was emerging from a — yawn — long, deep depression (oh, the unique existential pain that must come from being a wealthy, self-obsessed “indie” filmmaker)?when he conceived of this flick, and is attempting to engage some of the issues he dealt with while in said — yawn again — depression without crossing the line into full-blown on-screen therapeutic release. I dunnno, if I were him, I’d be a hell of a lot more depressed now, if I had faced the “long, dark night” of my soul and this was the best I could come up with.

There’s a scene in the film that could effectively stand in for the entirety of “Antichrist”? as a whole :? He, knocked unconscious by She, is lying on the floor with a monster erection, and She takes takes said hard-on in her hands and yanks on it until it ejaculates blood all over her. That’s all von Trier is doing here — jerking us all off, collectively, until we cum more as a means of registering our disgust than anything else.

Perversely, the inherently nihilstic undertones sledgehammered away at throughout “Antichrist” are proven to be true not by anything said by the film itself, but by its mere existence. Yes, we are a hopelessly fucked lot in general, and yes, all is lost, and yes, existence itself is quite likely pointless — any species that can produce even one member as shallowly self-absorbed as von Trier proves himself to be with “Antichrist” is well beyond any hope of redemption. All of our efforts at nobility, altruism, generosity,? and kindness aside, the fact that even one human being could come up with anything this wretchedly egotistical is, I’m afraid, enough to damn us all. So if there is indeed any higher power at work in the universe who sits in judgment over all of creation, I’d like to apologize on behalf of the entire human race for the fact that one of us made this film. I hope you won’t hold it against us as a whole, but really, if you decide to do so, I can’t say that I’d blame you.

international weirdness “star knight”

Hooooo-boy. It’s honestly hard to know where to begin when discussing/opining about Spanish co-writer/director’s 1985 bizarre sci-fi opus Star Knight (original Spanish title El Caballero Del Dragon) simply because the end result of Colomo’s efforts here is so comically bizarre as to defy description. But I’ll give it a go because that’s what I do.

First off, I don’t think Colomo had any overt desire to make a comedy here, although many aspects of the film are designed for good old-fashioned comic relief (the laughably Green Knight character being foremost among them). You don’t enlist the likes of Harvey Keitel (not that he’s listing this at the top of his resume or anything) and Klaus Kinski (who should always be referred to, I think, with an obligatory “fucking” inserted into the middle of his name — as in “that’s Klaus fucking Kinski, man”), I think what he was going for, it’s fair to say, is a good, old-fashioned “trippy” quasi-mystical flick that will really, ya know, absolutely blow your mind!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the problem is, the whole thing is so incompetently put together that it never had a chance, and the end result is one of those movies that, yeah, you really do have to see to believe, but not for the reasons Colomo intended.

First off, we might as well get the plot basics out of the way — in some unspecified medieval time, a knight named Klever (Keitel) is tasked with rescuing the beautiful princess he’s secretly in love with (Maria Lamor) by her father (Fernando Rey). The princess was apparently taken by a dragon who lives in a nearby lake, and oh yeah, Kinski’s on hand as Boetius, the obligatory mystic-seer- guy of the kingdom (who’s actually the root cause of all this trouble, as we come to find out). He’s also the only actor on hand who doesn’t appear to be totally mailing it in, and engages,a s you would expect, in his usual absolutely epic scenery-chewing. More power to him for at least giving a fuck.

Once Klever arrives at the lake, though, he quickly discovers things aren’t as he thought they were at all — for one thing, the “dragon” is actually a spaceship, and for another, the princess has gone and fallen in love with her humanoid-looking alien captor. Ah, the drama of it all —

So, you rightly ask, given such a world-class premise (*cough*) what could possibly go wrong? Well, for one thing there are the effects. For a movie made in 1985, most of the laser lights and glowing orbs and what have you on display here would look out place in terms of cheapness even 20 years earlier. Then there’s the incredibly ham-fisted dialogue — granted, given this was a Spanish film, maybe it looked better on paper and just got butchered by some inept translator. Even then, though, there’s no excuse for the truly atrocious dubbing. I swear, I thought Pieces (another Spanish effort) had the worst dubbing I’d ever seen, but this thing has it beat by a damn sight. Then there’s the way the plot quickly goes off the rails and never gets back on. Then there’s the laughably absurd poor-man’s mysticism that thinks it’s just so damn profound. And the aforementioned absolutely wooden acting by everybody knot named Kinski (sorry, by everybody not named fucking Kinski). And the less-than-convincing (to put it kindly) medieval costumes. And the languidly droll pacing. And — you get the idea.

Don’t get me wrong, though — these aren’t reasons you shouldn’t see Star Knight, not by any means — they’re reasons you should. It’s a rare film indeed that sees its realizations fall so far below its intentions, and that’s always a glorious sight to behold. Star Knight wants to be Dune or 2001in terms of its epic scope and high-brow concepts, but it’s got the budget of an Italian postapocalyptic flick and is pursued with Ed Wood-level competence. The result is a dizzying spectacle of so-bad-it’s-goodness that makes, in the end, absolutely no sense whatsoever(nor should it, as that would ruin everything). And then there’s The Green Knight. Trust me when I say seeing this flick is well worth it for him alone.

Unless I’m very much mistaken, Star Knight has lapsed into the public domain, the end result being that there are a good half-dozen or so (at least) versions of it out there on DVD. The one I watched is from some outfit called Echo Bridge Home Entertainment, and while the full-frame transfer is clearly un-remastered and looks like crap, and the mono soundtrack sounds just as bad, from what I understand no one that’s put this out in the hopes of turning over a quick buck (good luck with that) has put any care into it whatsoever and so there’s no “better” version of it to be found amongst any of them. Needless to say, extras are non-existent in any and all incarnations, as well.

For the average movie watcher, Star Knight is a hokey, convoluted, unintelligible, hopelessly embarrassing mess for all involved. For conoisseurs of the truly wretched, however, it’s a gift from — well — the stars, I guess.

give up on “battle los angeles”

How many ways can a film suck? Let’s do a quick checklist, shall we, in relation, to this, Hollywood’s latest megamillion-dollar (well, okay, $70 million dollar, to be precise) waste of time.

1. It can have boring characters.

Check. Battle : Los Angeles doesn’t even have actual characters per se, it’s just got dull, bog-standard stereotypes dressed up in uniform. There’s Aaron Eckhart, who pretty much always sucks and just gets cast because he’s got a square jaw, as the forced-back-into-action military veteran who’s got to lead a platoon (or whatever they’re called) into battle despite the fact that he just got some men killed under his watch in Iraq (or maybe it’s Afghanistan) and was on the way to file his retirement papers. then there’s Michelle Rodriguez playing the same part she always does — a bad-ass superheroine-type who’s tough as nail but also supposedly sexy (even though she isn’t and never has been). Then we’ve got the guy about to get married, the African dude who joined the army to get his US citizenship so he could go to med school when his tour of duty was completed, etc. You’ll forget their names and their faces by the time they (mostly) get killed, and you won’t care when they die.

2. It can have an uninteresting story.

Battle : Los Angeles scores again on that front. After being given the most cursory “introduction” to the characters possible, we learn that the world is being invaded by giant fucking flying saucers with battle-ready robots spewing forth from them and by the time we learn what they’re doing here — evidently they want to rip off all our water — we no longer care (if we’re sane).

3. It can be poorly directed.

Another hit! Battle : Los Angeles is directed by grade-A hack Jonathan Liebesman who can’t decide if he wants to make Saving Private Ryan or Cloverfield and seems to get stuck somewhere in the middle. It’s trying to put us in the “middle of the action” at all times, but since we don’t give a single, solitary, flying fuck about any of the “action,” the middle of it is nowhere you’ll want to be. You just want everyone to get killed and the whole thing to end. Except it drags out for a brutal, interminable 116 minutes. Stay home and watch your toenails grow instead, it’ll be a more productive — and involving — use of your time.

4. It can have bad acting.

Bingo again! Battle : Los Angeles features atrocious, cardboard-cut-out acting from all involved. Nobody does anything above and beyond showing up to earn their paycheck.

5. It can have laughable dialogue.

Bull’s-eye! Battle : Los Angeles features some of the most ham-fisted dialogue to come out of Hollywood in recent memory, and that’s really saying something. No one has anything to say beyond brave-sounding bullshit and useless military jargon. this stuff makes John Wayne look positively fucking subtle by comparison.

6. It can have a stupid, intelligence-insulting premise.

On this score, Battle : Los Angeles is even more guilty than on the others. At its core this overstuffed pig is nothing more than a high-tech military recruitment film, designed to portray all our men and women in uniform (and form all cultures and all parts of the world — today’s army will take ‘em all, aren’t they wonderful?) as noble, purposeful people of the highest integrity and unflinching virtue. PTSD , horrible injuries, even death — it all just goes with the territory when you’re fighting for all that’s right and good, doesn’t it? A small price to pay for defending — uhhhmmm — “freedom.” The hard, cold reality — that our government and, more specifically, its corporate bosses, view these guys and gals as nothing more than hamburger for their always-churning meat grinder is conveniently glossed over. Have fun dying for Halliburton and GE, suckers. Hollywood will always be around to spend millions portraying you as noble warriors for truth and justice rather than poorly-paid hired thugs for the corporate class. Might have something to do with who owns the studios, I’m willing to bet. Sure, there’s danger — but danger is cool!? Sure, you might end up on a morgue slab — but you’ll get there the “honorable” way. Your life — and death — will have meaning and purpose, unlike it does now (since most of that meaning and purpose has been robbed from you right from the outset by the same greedy bastards who will then tell you how “heroic” it is to put yourself on the line protecting their ever-increasing profit margins).

Ya know, I think I’m gonna stop right there. Sure, the list could go on and on, but the fact is that there are only so many ways for me to implore you to not see this film under any circumstances whatsoever. Honestly, it makes the Transformers flicks looks like complex, intricate woks of cinematic art. I, for one, welcome our new alien overlords — if it means that no more movies like this will ever be made.