Blaxploitation Remake Only Hustles Itself ? Rolling Stone

SuperFly 2018

At least it looks super fly. It?s too bad that Director X (born Julien Christian Lutz), the Canadian short-form film master for the likes of Rihanna, Drake and Nicki Minaj, stumbles when he has to stretch a scene past video length. The Austin Chronicle sets his blaxploitation remake in present-day Atlanta to separate it from the 1972 Harlem-based original, directed in a more straightforward-but-effective style by Gordon Parks Jr. (whose father, incidentally, took the reins of the equally influential Shaft the year before). It?s still basically the same plot, but instead of Ron O?Neal in the role of reluctant drug dealer Youngblood Priest, model-handsome Travis Jackson steps up to the plate and steals every scene that?s not first purloined by his awesome, straightened, upswept hair. The hair wins every time. If hair could act, the Jackson tresses would be up for a follicular Oscar.

The story twists are basically warmed-over tricks from screenwriter Alex Tse. Priest is a street-bred success, one so smooth that he can sweet talk his enemies out of shooting him. But he wants one big score before leaving the game to live large in Montenegro with Georgia (Lex Scott Davis), his girlfriend, and their mutual sex toy Cynthia (Andrea Londo), who?s conveniently handy whenever Priest hankers for a threesome in the shower. That scene will draw derisive, #TimesUp laughter wherever movies are shown. So, for that matter, will the risible dialogue, like the voiceover inanity, ?No car can outrun fate.? Good to know.

Even the violence has a stale feel, enlivened only by the presence of Jason Mitchell (a brilliant Eazy-E in Straight Outta Compton) as Eddie, Priest?s right-hand in the cocaine-dealing business. It?s a problem for the movie having Mitchell around because he can actually act ? which makes things worse for Jackson, a successful singer, dancer and songwriter whose thespian skills here and on such TV shows like American Crime have yet to rise to the occasion. In his scenes with his right-hand man or Michael Kenneth Williams? mentor or Esai Morales? ?SuperFly? Is Silly, Pandering, and Full of One-Note Fools , the man of the hour simply flounders. Even the Snow Patrol, a group of rival coke dealers who dress absurdly in white parkas in the steaming Georgia sun (!), show more personality. All the car chases and gunplay in the world can?t disguise the void where characterization should be. As for the white characters, corrupt cops personified by Brian F. Durkin and the against-all-odds excellent Jennifer Morrison seem like refugees from relic TV shows that died decades ago.

Review: Searching is filled with twists and turns

Searching 2018

The slasher hit Unfriended from 2014 helped launch a new sort of sub-genre ? let?s call ThanosTV -horror. Involving Skype and the supernatural, the film can be seen as a parable for our frighteningly hyper-modern times and a comment on the dangers of the anti-social internet.

On another level, filmmakers who use laptop screens and Snapchat exchanges as visuals are simply speaking in languages young audiences can understand. And don?t forget, if http://tinyurl.com/y9bywzso is worth a thousand words, a well-placed emoji is worth more than a few chuckles. Unfriended (and its sequel Unfriended: Dark Web) was produced by Timur Bekmambetov, the Russian-Kazakh filmmaker behind Searching, a clever twist-and-turn thriller about a missing daughter and a cyber-sleuth search for clues by her father.

ANIMAL WORLD Review: Clowning Your Expectations

Animal World 2018

Man, Animal World is weird. I don?t mean that as a voyeuristic foreign observer of a Chinese film, or as a commentary on some of the insane ideas working under the hood of the film, or even as a blatant feeling of absurdist joy at the action spectacle Animal World has to offer. ?Okay, maybe I do mean all those things, but I also mean something more. For all the batshit zaniness going on in Animal World, there?s https://www.thanostv.org/movie/animal-world-2018 ends up taking that, while still interesting in its own right, feels like a failed promise of something more.

The film opens on a monologue from protagonist Zheng Kaisi (Li Feng Yi) explaining that he is insane. As a child, he became obsessed with a cartoon called Super Clown, wherein a sword-wielding clown fought demonic forces with plenty of neon-splattered blood spraying everywhere. Now, as an adult, Zheng works a dead-end job to support his comatose mother, but when he starts to lose his temper, the people around him start to morph into demons, and he fantasizes about laying waste to them in scenarios that mirror the cartoon, dressed as that very same clown.

When Zheng slips into his daydreams, the camera will surreally shake, zooming in on minor details only to crazily morph perspective until you?re looking at something completely different and potentially contorting into something hellish. When the action sequences start, they are appropriately bloody and kinetic, demonstrating a remarkable eye from director Yan Han and cinematographer Max Da-Yung Wang for placing a single human actor in an entirely digital space wherein he must physically combat dozens of imaginary opponents. In other words, the fight scenes kick ass, and while the CG monster creations aren?t quite up to par with what modern Hollywood can create, they look realistic enough that the suspension of disbelief holds true.

So what?s so strange about Animal World is that these fantasy sequences pop up ? sometimes out of nowhere ? and one would think this is setting up some sort of arc in which Zheng acts out his fantasies in the real world, dealing with his anger in ways that aren?t helpful to himself or his loved ones. But that?s not where the film goes at all. In fact, the whole clown business is almost entirely superfluous, popping in to demonstrate flashes of Zheng?s mental state throughout the film, but it’s never actually addressed by the plot or Zheng?s character development. I wouldn?t wish for this element to be removed, as it?s easily the most fun the movie has to offer, but it?s such a strange conceit to then do nothing to explore.

The real plot of Animal World kicks in when Zheng?s friend asks him to put his apartment up for a mortgage to assist on a mutual investment, but then this friend subsequently loses the money gambling, leaving Zheng on the hook to an American businessman played by Michael Douglas ? really ? for the entirety of the lost debt. In order to wipe out the massive total of the debt his friend incurred, Zheng agrees to board the businessman? Click Here to international waters to participate in a game that, should he win, will forgive his debt. I?d say it?s like Hunger Games, except there doesn?t seem to be anyone watching the game either on the ship or remotely, and the festivities are a lot less directly violent, since the game being played is literally a form of Rock Paper Scissors.

I told you this got weird.

Yes, as strange as it may seem, this entire film hinges on an elaborate game involving desperate debtors non-violently playing a card-game version of Rock Paper Scissors for their freedom. The rules are a bit more complicated than that, and the consequences of elimination from the game are potentially fatal, but that?s the basic gist of this bizarre take on a sports movie through the lens of gambling. And for what it?s worth, Yan Han makes the affair actually kind of interesting, investing the story with elements of resource management, long-term strategy, and antagonistic mind games that are legitimately tense and earned. It reminds me of nothing so much as a sports anime, complete with long expository monologues with elaborate graphics to explain card-counting tactics and demonstrate where each of the players stand, which makes sense since this is apparently based on a Japanese manga, Kaijii: Ultimate Survivor.

Blaxploitation Remake Only Hustles Itself ? Rolling Stone

SuperFly 2018

At least it looks super fly. It?s too bad that Director X (born Julien Christian Lutz), the Canadian short-form film master for the likes of Rihanna, Drake and Nicki Minaj, stumbles when he has to stretch a scene past video length. He sets his blaxploitation remake in present-day Atlanta to separate it from the 1972 Harlem-based original, directed in a more straightforward-but-effective style by Gordon Parks Jr. (whose https://www.thanostv.org/movie/superfly-2018 , incidentally, took the reins of the equally influential Shaft the year before). It?s still basically the same plot, but instead of Ron O?Neal in the role of reluctant drug dealer Youngblood Priest, model-handsome Travis Jackson steps up to the plate and steals every scene that?s not first purloined by his awesome, straightened, upswept hair. The hair wins every time. If hair could act, the Jackson tresses would be up for a follicular Oscar.

The story twists are basically warmed-over tricks from screenwriter Alex Tse. Priest is a street-bred success, one so smooth that he can sweet talk his enemies out of shooting him. But he wants one big score before leaving the game to live large in Montenegro with Georgia (Lex Scott Davis), his girlfriend, and their mutual sex toy Cynthia (Andrea Londo), who?s conveniently handy whenever Priest hankers for a threesome in the shower. That scene will draw derisive, #TimesUp laughter wherever movies are shown. So, for that matter, will the risible dialogue, like the voiceover inanity, ?No car can outrun fate.? Good to know.

Even the violence has a stale feel, enlivened only by the presence of Jason Mitchell (a brilliant Eazy-E in Straight Outta Compton) as Eddie, Priest?s right-hand in the cocaine-dealing business. It?s a problem for the movie having Mitchell around because he can actually act ? which makes things worse for Jackson, a successful singer, dancer and songwriter whose thespian skills here and on such TV shows like American Crime have yet to rise to the occasion. In his scenes with his right-hand man or Michael Kenneth Williams? mentor or Esai Morales? Mexican cartel druglord, the man of the hour simply flounders. Even the Snow Patrol, a group of rival coke dealers who dress absurdly in white parkas in the steaming Georgia sun (!), show thanostv . All the car chases and gunplay in the world can?t disguise the void where characterization should be. As for the white characters, corrupt cops personified by Brian F. Durkin and the against-all-odds excellent Jennifer Morrison seem like refugees from relic TV shows that died decades ago.

There?s No Way Louis C.K.?s New Movie Can Happen Now

I Love You, Daddy 2017

Louis C.K.’s I Love You, Daddy was already the world’s most terribly timed movie. It’s a would-be provocative comedy about how a man’s Woody Allen?esque hero starts pursuing his 17-year-old daughter ? and was, at the time of writing, still scheduled to open right in the middle of our current maelstrom of stories about decades of Hollywood predation. In the wake of Thursday’s New York Times report on C.K.’s own long-rumored sexual misconduct, in which multiple women accuse the comedian of forcing them to watch or listen to him masturbate without their consent, The Orchard announced that it was canceling the release. It’s a film, however, that should never have come out at all, unless it was going to be used as a primer for how conversations about power and consent get mishandled, muddied, and ultimately used to excuse or obscure abusive behavior. In the movie, C.K. plays a successful but no-longer-on-his-game television producer named Glen Topher. John Malkovich is Leslie Goodwin, a revered 68-year-old director, unapologetic luster after teenage girls, and rumored child molester. If that doesn’t make clear that he’s intended to be a Woody Allen stand-in, then the reverence with which C.K.’s character treats him should. "He’s a great artist! Probably the best writer-filmmaker of the last 30 years or more," he yelps when his daughter, China (Chlo� Grace Moretz), brings up Goodwin’s reputed pedophilia and known track record with much younger lovers. Then he scolds her for judging someone on the basis of what she’s heard rather than what she can know for sure. "His private life, that’s not anybody’s business," Glen says, in a variation on a familiar, nauseating rationale that people have used to defend their problematic (right up through potentially criminal) faves for time eternal. It’s a rationale C.K. has employed on his own behalf, dismissing talk of his own then-only-rumored misconduct in the New York Times in September by saying, "If you actually participate in a rumor, you make it bigger and you make it real." He went on to say, "The uncomfortable truth is, you never really know. … To me, if there was one thing this movie is about, it?s that you don?t know anybody."

Given those "rumors" about C.K. ? and the "rumors" that also swirled around Weinstein and Brett Ratner and Kevin Spacey and others before victims recently came forward to confirm allegations to the press ? the astonishing convenience of this stance is galling. (As is the way the film coyly winks at the stories about C.K. by having a character mime jerking off in a room with his coworkers.) You "never really know" only if you’re willing to consign accusations of sexual misconduct to the realm of gossip and hearsay, to pretend these stories get whispered about only because no one’s sure if they’re true, rather than because the consequences of speaking up can be so punitive. As the post-Weinstein fallout consumes Hollywood, spreads through other industries, and provides hope that we may be headed toward actual (maybe) systemic (maybe) change, I Love You, Daddy isn’t just tone-deaf. It’s stunningly hubristic, pushing an argument that’s been used to silence people for decades. And it unfolds entirely within what now feels like a very telling blind spot for its writer, director, and star, in which the answer to questions about consent is inevitably an alarming "it’s complicated.?

I Love You, Daddy is the first movie C.K. has directed since Pootie Tang in 2001. In the years since, he’s built up a career as one of the most respected stand-ups in the business; created Louie, an acclaimed, uneven FX show that helped spark a slew of other raw, form-pushing dramedies like Atlanta and Master of None; and self-funded Horace and Pete, an impossible to describe play-as-TV-drama-as-web-series that featured some genuinely great writing and acting. C.K. casts himself in the role of an industry hack in I Love You, Daddy, but as a real-life creator, he’s been self-funding his projects in order to make them without outside interference. All of which makes the film more enraging and disappointing, coming after so much work that’s grappled with other risky subject matter with empathy and humanity.

But he’s been dicey on the topics of sexual violence and coercion before. In Season 4 of Louie, his character pushes himself on a resistant Pamela, played by longtime collaborator Pamela Adlon (who also appears in the new movie). During the ensuing struggle she snaps, "This would be rape if you weren?t so stupid!" And C.K. has talked about male violence against women in his stand-up, but when he’s intentionally portrayed sexual coercion onscreen in the show, he’s tended to role-reverse, allowing himself to get forced into oral sex by Melissa Leo or dressed in makeup and penetrated by Adlon. Given that he comes out of these encounters asking to see these women again, these scenes seem more intent on his character’s humiliation than on showing any degree of understanding regarding consent. I Love You, Daddy doesn’t just continue to muddy the waters around those issues. It is in itself an example of a powerful comedian proving himself incapable of confronting the transgressions of another man in the industry he admires. Which isn’t remotely surprising ? in the Times article about C.K., estranged collaborator Tig Notaro goes on the record, but none of C.K.’s male colleagues do. Allen’s a formative influence for many comedians, and he’s clearly one for C.K., who’s acted in one of Allen’s movies and who includes multiple homages to Allen’s Manhattan in I Love You, Daddy. But after raising the possibility of the sexual assault of a child, the film swerves to focus instead on the gray areas surrounding older men who try to sleep with teenage girls. It’s a deflection that’s crushing, not just because C.K. chooses not to confront the possible misdeeds of another powerful male comedian, but because he opts instead to pick and choose from the rumors, then argue that maybe some of these troubling choices aren’t all that bad. To describe this as an unasked-for argument would be putting it lightly. Yet the film makes it nonetheless, by sidelining the rumors of Goodwin?s pedophilia (something that even the noncommittal Glen can’t rationalize away) as a ?really personal story? Goodwin promises to explain over drinks. As Goodwin is shown grooming China, accompanying her as she tries on bikinis at a department store and taking her to Paris, Glen hovers indecisively, wanting to put a stop to what’s happening but unwilling to put his foot down and confront either his doted-on child or the artist he so admires.

It’s "As the Father of a Daughter": The Movie, but C.K. isn’t interested in exploring and critiquing the mindset of men whose empathy for women seems entirely dependent on being a parent to one. In lieu of that, he makes a woman, his love interest Grace (Rose Byrne), present talking points about sexual maturity and why what he suspects is happening between Goodwin and his daughter might not be so bad. These are words C.K. clearly feels too uncomfortable having Glen speak; Grace shoulders the unmanageable burden of defending why teenagers should be able to have sex with adults while Glen halfheartedly recites reasons why it’s wrong. She’s positioned as the sophisticated third-wave feminist actor to his agency-denying rube, whom she scolds for describing the relationship she had as a teenager with a fiftysomething as rape. "So when a girl does feel lust and desire, then she’s got to be with a fucking boy?" she snaps. It’s a conversation the movie presents as reasonable, when it’s actually queasy and dangerous. C.K. wants to present sex and attraction as things that are too messy for broad rules or generalizations. But click here to do that if you’re also going to willfully ignore or remain oblivious to the central issue ? how the massive power imbalance innate to this kind of relationship makes it ripe for abuse, the way power imbalances enabled and protected abuse in all of the stories currently spilling out of Hollywood at the moment. It’s Adlon ? tasked as she so often is in C.K?s work with being the voice of reason and sanity ? who comes in as Glen’s salty ex-girlfriend, socks him in the arm, and tells him he has to take action, even if it makes China hate him. In doing so, she provides C.K. with an escape hatch. He’s able to turn the movie into one about his character’s personal failings, rather than follow through on the incredibly troubling arguments he raises and then runs away from.

Woody Allen, like the character Leslie Goodwin, was accused but not charged of sexually abusing a child. His alleged victim was his then 7-year-old adopted daughter by then-partner Mia Farrow. Dylan Farrow reiterated the allegations in 2014, mincing no words in calling out those who continue to work with and support Allen, writing that "Woody Allen is a living testament to the way our society fails the survivors of sexual assault and abuse." Allen has, of course, continued to work anyway, becoming an enduring symbol of Hollywood?s ability ? up to this point ? to treat sexual misconduct allegations as a mere inconvenience. He continued to work after marrying another of Mia Farrow’s adopted children, a woman who is 35 years his junior, whom he met when he was dating Farrow (a relationship that caused a scandal, but wasn’t illegal). The same can be said for the relationship between Allen?s 42-year-old character Isaac Davis and the 17-year-old Tracy (Mariel Hemingway) in Manhattan, traces of which ? from the New York City setting to the black-and-white cinematography down to the fact that China is the same age as Tracy ? are all over I Love You, Daddy. (Times have changed, but Allen’s attempts to normalize these relationships continue with the film he just finished shooting, A Rainy Day in New York, which reportedly features a sexual relationship between characters played by Jude Law, 44, and 19-year-old Elle Fanning.)

Hemingway herself was 18 when Allen tried to whisk her off to Paris the way Goodwin (Malkovich) does with China (Moretz) in I Love You, Daddy. Unlike China, Hemingway chose not to go ? in her 2015 memoir, Hemingway described turning him down over uncertainty about the sleeping arrangement, saying, "I’m not going to get my own room, am I? I can?t go to Paris with you." Who knows if C.K. was aware of this anecdote when writing I Love You, Daddy (he declined to comment for this piece; C.K. responded to the allegations in the Times story with a written statement in which he says "These stories are true.") ? but it feels like something that could have informed his film, especially in the way Hemingway describes her parents reacting to Allen’s offer. "I wanted them to put their foot down. They didn?t. They kept lightly encouraging me," she wrote. C.K.’s insistence, in his own movie, on keeping the focus on parental permissiveness rather than the predatory nature of a decades-older celebrity trying to erode a teenager’s boundaries enough to fuck her, serves as its own kind of normalization. And so I Love You, Daddy ends up being a tribute to Allen in ways C.K. probably never intended. "We?re at the bleeding edge of ‘That?s not OK to do now,’ but those people are still around," he told the Hollywood Reporter. "That?s a very interesting line to be on.& ThanosTV doesn’t just let Allen off the hook ? he lets himself off as well.

C.K. has described I Love You, Daddy, which he shot on the sly this summer, as a film he expected would piss some people off. But in light of C.K.’s alleged past behavior, and the fumbled apologies he reportedly made to some of his victims in the years since, the movie plays more like a stroke of self-immolation. It?s the work of a man who’s been expecting consequences to come calling, and who decided to lean into the coming anger with a have-to-hear-all-sides affront that inadvertently echoes so many of the excuses and denials that men adjacent to or accused of misconduct have offered up in the past few weeks.

Scares For The Whole Family ? Variety

<img src="https://pmcvariety.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/knuckleball.jpg?w Scares For The Whole Family ? Variety &h=563&crop=1″ alt=”Knuckleball 2018″>

It?s winter and a boy is unintentionally home alone, but what follows is more in the realm of mortal peril than wacky hijinks in ?Knuckleball.? This admirably lean thriller, in which a 12-year-old dumped at grandpa?s during his parents? vacation ends up fighting for life, doesn? DVD Talk Review of the Theatrical hold up to close scrutiny in terms of credibility. Yet while you?re watching, helmer Michael Peterson effectively earns suspension of disbelief with stark atmospherics, solid performances and a persuasive escalation of panic. The Canadian feature is opening on three U.S. screens simultaneous with its digital-formats release.

Henry (Luca Villacis) is by all appearances a typical kid, glued to his video games, not especially happy about being dropped off at a barely remembered relative?s isolated farmhouse while mom (Kathleen Munroe) and dad (Chenier Hundal) head south. It?s even less welcome because grandfather Jacob (Michael Ironside) is a taciturn sort not on good terms with his daughter. But the young family doesn?t seem to have another option ? it?s strongly suggested the parents? ?alone time? trip is a last-ditch effort to save their discordant marriage.

So Henry is deposited in the widower?s rural home on a cheerless frozen landscape, where Jacob immediately puts him to work with unfamiliar chores, and entertainment options are zilch. (To circumvent the usual modern-thriller problem of omnipresent telecommunications, Henry soon realizes he forgot his charger, so his electronic devices are quickly rendered useless.)

Grandpa is an intimidating type, and while in his gruff way he tries to be friendly with his grandson, he?s by contrast alarmingly brutal toward Dixon (Munro Chambers), a youthful neighbor of ambiguous standing whom Jacob says is ?almost like family,? yet treats more like a combination servant and out-of-favor pet. For his part, Dixon seems nice enough, trying to insinuate himself with the visiting boy. But appearances can deceive.

Overnight, things take an unexpected turn that leaves Henry by himself, without a working phone, many miles from the nearest town in the dead of a blizzardy Alberta winter. He turns to Dixon for help ? a move that around the film?s halfway point shifts its mood from queasy pathos to escalating terror.

There?s a lot to retroactively pick apart in Peterson and Kevin Cooke?s screenplay. The relationship between Jacob and Dixon, which would explain a great deal, remains murky. The secret of what?s inside grandpa?s ominously locked barn turns out to be rather more than this story?s already laden agenda really needs. Henry?s resourcefulness under extreme duress strains belief even within the conventions of the thriller genre. And it?s never convincing that his yuppified parents would leave him with a grandparent with whom his own mother has had a highly problematic past.

Yet none of that much matters from the start of a game-changing 10-minute scene at Dixon?s house, during which Henry becomes acutely aware of the danger he?s in through the series of attacks, dodges and detours that fill the remaining runtime. These sequences are precisely handled by Peterson, which is particularly impressive given that nearly all his prior work was comedic. An excellent score by Michelle Osis and David Arcus further ratchets up the tension.

Chambers (?Turbo Kid,? which also featured Ironside) is vividly unhinged, Villacis convincing despite his character?s implausible aspects (Henry is as hardwired for survival as a Navy SEAL), while Ironside lends sufficient gravity of presence to a figure insufficiently sketched in the writing.

There?s a clean, crisp feel to Jon Thomas? widescreen photography and Rob Grant? Review: Knuckleball is lean, mean and eerie that amplifies the cold menace of the setting. Myron Hyrak?s production design manages for the interiors what nature provides for the exteriors.

Beast of Burden Review (2018)

Beast of Burden 2018

Sean Haggerty (Daniel Radcliffe) is a pilot who used to fly with the U.S. Air Force, but now has been forced to make his income flying light aircraft for Mexican drugs cartels into the United States, which is what he is doing at the moment. It is night time, and the conditions are overcast and windy, but Sean has other things on his mind, such as his wife Jen (Grace Gummer) who he is talking to on his phone, trying to reassure her all will be well and he will be able to return to her so they can start their family they have planned since they fell in love. However, there are unseen dangers on the flight he has no inkling of… BEAST OF BURDEN Review: Flying The Unfriendly Skies or thriller, where one character takes the lead and the lion’s share of the dialogue, became an occasionally returned to subgenre with the advent of the mobile phone, where you could have your star on one set and the rest of the cast could call them and the plot would unfold that way. Phone Booth, ironically not using a mobile, was the apparent instigator of the format, then there was the Ryan Reynolds exercise Buried, but Beast of Burden appeared to be taking its cue more from the Tom Hardy driving solo showcase Locke, given Radcliffe was in a small vehicle and discussing matters over the ether with the goodies and baddies. After that manner, this could easily have been a radio play, and indeed should you choose to watch it you might have believed it was, since director Jesper Ganslandt made the confounding decision to film the action in near-impenetrable gloom from start to finish. There were long stretches where it was barely worth your while looking at the screen, so negligent was this to creating something even borderline interesting to look at, never mind discern, and you imagine those Daniel Radcliffe completists, of whom there are a few off the back of Harry Potter, would be doubly frustrated in that they could not get a decent look at their idol when they lined this one up to watch. So awful was the cinematography, or the lighting to be more specific, that quite often you had to take it as read that really was Radcliffe on the screen; it sounded like him, but he could have used an impersonator, or at least provided a voiceover. Not helping was the storyline, a mishmash of clichés relating to Mexican gangsters and the American D.E.A. who try to combat and ultimately stop them, having recruited Haggerty to act as informer as long as he can secure safety for himself and Jen. If this had been played out on the ground, it would not have been compelling to any greater degree, therefore in the aircraft set which was accompanied by the loud drone of the engines, you had one of the least attractive thrillers of its decade. At one point, talking of drones, Haggerty wound down the window of the cockpit and fired a pistol at a flying drone that had pulled up alongside him, or that’s what you had to assume was happening since you may have seen the gunmetal flash in the dim glow of the instrument panel, but you assuredly could not see any drone. The director did not quite have the conviction to film exclusively in the cockpit, so every so often we were offered a flashback where we got to witness how the hero wound up in this position, yet even this was not capitalised on as they were more often than not wholly superfluous to whatever was supposed to be going on in the air in current time. It’s difficult to see – well, yeah, it’s difficult to see, but also it’s hard to understand how it was possible to mess up such a simple concept, with a bankable star, but Beast of Burden managed it with an insane dedication to self-sabotage. Absolutely baffling. Music by Tom – no, Tim Jones. [No extras on Thunderbird’s DVD, but Radcliffe fans will be curious about it.] This review has been viewed 194 time(s). As a member you could Rate this film