(3 / 5)
Power Rangers is a franchise that has lasted because it has a tried and tested formula that works. Teenagers get superpower as well as colorful outfits and must defend the earth (or neighborhood) from a galactic threat that then escalates to giant monster vs giant robot.
There have been other movies before, but none have done that well. Now it seems that every studio needs a big franchise under their belt so why not this one?
Kicking off everything is a flashback to prehistoric Earth where colorful warriors lay defeated from a battle, when their armor disintegrates it reveals them to be aliens. One of them stands victorious over the others, this one is named Rita, the last one living, Zordon (Bryan Cranston) orders a meteor to hit earth and buries five colorful coins until the right people can claim them. Cut to present time where the land has become the small town of Angel Grove.
In the town we see a young man named Jason (Dacre Montgomery) attempting a prank that involves the school mascot cow, this goes awry and he is then sentenced to school on Saturday’s just so he can graduate. In this same class there is Billy (RJ Cyler) a possibly autistic kid that is the motormouth and juxtaposes the others with his offbeat ways (probably my favorite). Kimbery (Naomi Scott) a former popular girl but is now in-class and unfriended because she sent a picture and punched out a popular boys tooth (they put it back), later they run into Rini (Becky G) a girl who wander around pretty much and isn’t interested in getting to know the gang, then there’s Zack (Ludi Lin) who also wanders around but is also crazy (cause he tells us so) and more invites himself.
Eventually they do uncover the coins and they get powers and unlock other things and must face the threat, yadda-yadda-yadda.
Clearly the most effort has gone into adding depth to these teenage characters, giving them backstory and trauma and some kind of adversity to tackle. They are all part of a different ethnicity which adds diversity and is more like humanity coming together rather than mostly white people and the token minority.
The thing about all of this is that this is Power Rangers (try saying it out loud). This is by its nature corny, colorful and lighthearted. So they keep in some of the quips and color but when they introduce the dark, edgy elements it doesn’t mesh. A comedic scene can play out and it’s fine, however a dark scene can be pulled-off well but becomes that just happened in a movie where the cheesy things happened it’s like we’re in another movie. Good movies have a theme and tone consistent throughout, they establish if this is for children, teenagers or adults and plays to the kind of mood for said audience. This comes off more unhinged.
Rita Repulsa is the original big villain in the first season of Power Rangers. Here she is given a now look but still taking ques from the original (mostly in the staff) and reworked to be more threatening. The main draw is Elizabeth Banks who decides to go all out in performing her as well as clearly having a lot of fun. It’s hammy, but in a controlled way.
This movie has everything that fans of Power Rangers will expect, but may be not how they’re used to getting it. But even then, does this movie work? It works well enough, it is self aware enough to point out some more obvious cliches and pokes fun of itself enough while clearly being enthusiastic over the source material. For a summer blockbuster for kids and teenagers this is a standard plot with good intention of having a diverse cast. It will do no harm and there are moments where people will be entertained.
Tag Archives: Review
Review, Big Guns, Yard Theatre, by Hannah Goslin
(3 / 5)In The Yard, this quaint and interesting theatre in a industrial state is flooded in red lighting, with two ladies eating popcorn, 3D glasses on and sat comfortably in a cut out piece of staging.
The music is ominous and leads us not to expect what we will witness the next hour or so.
Basic in its approach, Big Guns is filled with lighting changes from house lights, the red flooding, darkness and torches. The ominous music constantly giving us this uneasy feeling.
The performers perform a hour long duologue which aims to delve into the violence, danger and fear of every day, this increasing in today’s society. And while this is essentially a duologue, I was dubious a few minutes in as to whether this was all there was and was it worth it.
But somehow, the way the performers brought the stories, the thoughts, the emotions, the sense of fear was well done and I increasingly felt uneasy and a little scared of my walk home.
With recent attacks in London, daily negative news on our television screens and newspapers, the presence of social media ever apparent, the narrative hit the nail on the head and summed up our ever increasing danger.
Big Guns is certainly an interesting piece of theatre with an unusual approach and interesting set, lights and sound.
Review Kicked In The Sh*tter, The Hope Theatre by Hannah Goslin
(4 / 5)
Back again to The Hope which is always full of quintessential good writing and interesting drama.
Kicked In The Sh*tter is by Leon Fleming and directed by Scott Le Crass who are known for Sid which previously played at the Sherman Theatre, Cardiff . The play aims to look at the welfare state, at mental health, the two coinciding and in between this, relationships and trying to live.
The production is ambiguous and simple in its attire – Fleming notes this in the programme as making the narrative be relatable and able to be placed anywhere but also to not avoid drawing attention from the storyline. And this all works well – a lot of productions at the moment are adhering to this and it is welcomed when a lot of productions think that special effects and pomp and circumstance is needed to make an impact. While as a theatre creator myself, these are all aspects that I like to explore, something so realistic and relatable does not need such accessories if it is good writing.
The performers of course do a great job – switching from their younger days to current day, they manage to change their approach to show the distinction. The fact that they bounce off each other works well for a brother and sister relationship and when emotion is needed, awkwardness, a sense of struggling to help or accept help, we can relate to how they portray these.
A weird and subtle addition that I really liked was the stage movement – the sister does this always, with the brother watching, adhering to the essence that she has been left all responsibility. Subtle and small but I loved the attention to detail.
Despite all these good points, it was a good piece of theatre and I enjoyed watching but it did not astound me. But I cannot understand why. The elements were all there and Kicked in The Sh*tter should definitely been seen, if not only to be entertained but informed in the issues highlighted… there was just a spark that was missing for me.
Review, A Profoundly Affectionate, Passionate Devotion to Someone (-Noun), The Royal Court, by Hannah Goslin
(5 / 5)
Again, The Royal Court does nothing but astound us with its epic writing and unique staging.
A profoundly affectionate, passionate devotion to someone, written and directed by Debbie Tucker Green sees three relationships, intertwined and the love, passion, hate and pain that comes with being with someone.
What The Royal Court is very good at doing is by not masking the fantastic writing with bells and whistles. Set a little taller than us, the action happens around three edges of the squared room, where the performers move from side to side, from story to story – us being on chairs that rotate giving us the sense of choice as to whether we engage in stories that feel so private.
The performers are phenomenal – with such fantastic and funny writing they are open to exploration of feelings and expression and it feels very natural, very at home and pulls at our heart strings and our emotions. We relate to the stories and relate to the characters, their emotions and circumstances. And it is evident that the performers are invested in their characters – not one break of it, not one slip, and when not the initial focus, their characters continue out of the spotlight.
Another triumph for The Royal Court- another fantastically written piece executed to perfection.
Review The Far Side of the Moon, ExMachina, WMC 24th-25th March 2017 by Emily Garside
It is a rare opportunity to see Ex Machina, company of renowned theatre maker Robert LePage, perform outside of London in the UK, and the opportunity to see such a trailblazer of theatre practice first hand. The Far Side of the Moon, originally conceived and performed by LePage himself, now in the more than capable hands of Yve Jacques.
LePage, founded Ex Machina in 1994 and quickly gained attention with their early works notably The Seven Streams of the River Ota (1994) and Elsinore (1995). LePage’s work fuses styles and disciplines, he does not characterise Ex Machina as a theatre company, and nor does his work, either in performance or in film does not slot easily into traditional descriptions. LePage has become known for his fusing of film and performance, of multimedia across his work- video projections, soundscapes and projected dialogue sit alongside puppetry and performance and choreography. Meanwhile his interests as an artist similarly span multifaceted and multimedia approaches incorporating science alongside philosophy and art. It is fitting then, in 1999 when beginning work on The Far Side of the Moon, it was the question of science alongside art that is a catalyst to the narrative.
In parallel narratives- one public, the story of the space race, one private, the story of two brothers, LePage explores the nature of humanity, and the direction of life. The story unfolds of two brothers, one gay one straight, one confident, one shy, the younger seemingly successful, the younger still struggling. Their domestic narrative is played out against the backdrop of the Space Race and younger brother Phillipe’s endless fascination with the cosmonauts, pitted against their ever more glamorous American counterparts the American Astronauts. The parallels between the struggling student and his glamorous and famous weather presenter brother are clear.
The storytelling is tightly woven, and complex, veering across Phillipe and Andre’s lives, touching on their childhood and adolescence, through their current situations and frustrations. It is a highly domestic, family oriented tale at its heart with everything circling back to the death of their Mother, and the realisation of what life is like without any parents.
The technical elements of the show are, as expected, astounding. In the hands of a lesser company the might come off as gimmicky, but here the fusion of projections alongside The performance is truly theatrical in its reliance on Jacques performance to encapsulate both brothers and a variety of peripheral characters, but also in the use of stage and props in a very traditional way. Although LePage is perhaps best known for his fusing of film and theatre, here although the film and multimedia elements are moments of brilliance, it is moments of simple theatricality that highlight the skill and attention to detail in the performance. When an ironing board becomes a bike, for example, and later a bed, or when through subtle costume change and mannerism Jacques becomes another character. The brilliance of LePage’s work is the fusion of these elements, and despite being a work of technical precision, it also has a very instinctual, organic feel that comes back to the engaging storytelling at its heart.
As LePage’s creation is always about fusion of elements, the bringing together of The Far Side of the Moon rests on the performance of Jacques. An intimidating ask to take on the very personal story that LePage wrote- he draws on his own Mother’s death, as well as hinting at his personal struggles with depression and coming to terms with his sexuality- as well as taking on the piece that LePage performed himself. However, Jacques having toured this piece for several years, has an easy stage presence which makes the precision performance of both hitting technical markers to allow projection, puppeteer or set to take over the storytelling, while also delivering two hours of single-handed narration while embodying Andre and Phillipe’s characters. Jacques does it with an engaging personable warmth that also brings the audience into what for those uninitiated might see as the daunting prospect of LePage’s theatrical world.
Robert LePage sets out to create fusion in his work- fusion in performance through multimedia, traditional and innovation, and through thematically, addressing issues side by side that might not traditionally be addressed. These elements alone could be a cold exercise in performance for performance sake, experimentation for experimentation’s sake which could leave the average audience alienated. It is the credit of LePage and the company that his work does not do this, while The Far Side of the Moon is a great introduction to the theatrical style Le Page is known for, while it is a challenging fascinating study of performance methods, it also keeps at it’s heart the element of storytelling. So while audiences may be intrigued, puzzled and hopefully challenged by seeing what may be a new approach to theatre for them as this work tours the UK and the world, they will also be invited in, and moved by, the story that facilitates the performance.
http://lacaserne.net/index2.php/theatre/the_far_side_of_the_moon/
Review Yamato, Peacock Theatre by Hannah Goslin
(5 / 5)
Japanese drumming seems like an odd production to have at a well renowned dance theatre. But bear with me – it is not just drumming.
My interest has always been grabbed by Asia, especially Japan. Last year I visited Tokyo and saw what we all think of in Japan – a mixture of tradition and unusual things. My very small and brief cross with Japanese drumming was at the Robot Cafe where giant drums played by smiling men and women in bright clothing came inches away from my face.
So my expectation was a little different – I expected something more traditional and more quaint I suppose. I was surprised, shocked and entertained like never before.
Yamato bring the essence of Japan – the curiosities, the tradition and the uniqueness. The performers throw their all into each performance; they smile, they have fun, they engage with us and play with us but there are times of what would seem like ritual and tradition.
They show the mixture of something so old with the way they play, the instruments and their movements – being very low squatted and grounded. But also they enjoy what they are doing, bouncing from one area to another, dancing to accompany the music but also doing comedic moves that everyone relates to and so it then makes sense that this is at a dance theatre.
What I found intriguing is the mix of performers. Both men and women played the same instruments – there was little sexism in what they wore, what they were capable of and it felt like a very equal participation-something much of the British theatrical scene could learn from!
While its evident their English is very small, we engage with them in universal movements and find comedy in actions rather than words. We do not feel so far apart from their culture as we may anticipate.
Yamato is heaps of fun and extraordinary – as a drummer I found their skills astonishing but even a novice would do so. They are so perfected and fantastic, it would be hard to attend and not to come away smiling.
http://www.sadlerswells.com/whats-on/2017/yamato-chousensha-the-challengers/
Review Lore, a podcast, Aaron Mahnke by Sian Thomas
(5 / 5)
History is definitely intriguing to me. I already love stories, and there’s no loss when they’re true stories. However, I am far less interested in history discovered through school. Since, in all honesty, exams suck the life and the fun out of almost anything. This podcast was a way for me to experience history in a newer, and definitely more exciting way. This podcast would be great for people who are casually interested in history, or a good spooky/spiritual story.
Initially, I discovered it through a separate podcast I listen to, Welcome to Nightvale. In this podcast, one of the creators discusses some information about merchandise and tours before the episode begins. He mentioned a new movement called “Trypod” – a play on “tripod” to try, well, podcasts. And I decided to take this offer up! Here’s how I’m here now. I Googled podcasts. I found Lore. I listened to it, and I loved it.
http://www.lorepodcast.com/about/
Lore was undoubtedly a refreshing listen. I was overwhelmed by the amount of stories, folklore, tales, and mystery that were open to me. I was able to learn and enjoy countless dots of history scattered through the globe with a multitude of spooky, almost scary stories, that were true.
I’ve wanted to experience scary stories for a while now. I’ve really wanted a book to unsettle my stomach and plague my imagination with fear-enduring figures. I wanted, in all honesty, to experience and good and honest horror. I never found it in books. Which, I admit, I’m quite astounded that I have yet to find this in books, because I do consider myself a person extremely susceptible to an over-active imagination after a scary story. I’m astounded that horror, any kind from any book I’ve read, didn’t would do what I thought it is all set out to: scare me.
I thought books would work, but in their place, this podcast did. There were episodes that affected me particularly. The one about the Jersey Devil stuck with me. As did one that described in unsettling and inescapable detail the ins-and-outs of lobotomy. The detail was striking, and because there was nothing else my imagination could cling on to in a way of distracting me and minimising my fears, I was stuck in the scare that I’d wanted to feel all along. Which was amazing, which was exactly what I wanted – but it was as well, of course, scary as anything.
Lore was incredibly quick and easy! As an A-Level student most of my time is focused on school work, and I have less and less time for leisure as my exams creep up on me. So, a podcast with reasonable-length episodes was like some kind of blessing. They weren’t too long, or too short. And they were great to listen to after I got home, in that short and sweet period of time with no stress; between changing into my pyjamas , having a snack, and before actually sitting down to study. Lore is great for busy people.
I’ve learned through this podcast that all the great tales have the most infuriating and unsatisfactory endings – like all good unsolved things, I suppose, but in a way that is still loads of fun.
The narration is great. It isn’t rushed, and neither is it too slow. Similarly, the music flows perfectly in time with the words and the story.
I give it 5 stars – definitely don’t miss out on this gem of entertainment.
Review The Red Shoes, Matthew Bourne Company by Sian Thomas
(4 / 5)
I don’t know very much about ballet. In fact, this was my first time ever seeing one. I was completely swept away by the beauty and the elegance of it.
I did manage to follow the story. Although at first I was definitely a little lost. I did pick up the conflict between choosing passion or choosing love, and the eventual consequences that come to light as a result of the character’s decisions.
The dancing was gorgeous. Every single person on stage managed to look beyond elegant, and way beyond beautiful. The music alongside was amazing to see. Everything was so in sync and perfectly aligned, like the cat wasn’t well-practiced, but more like dancing to it was intrinsically within them and not something they had to even think twice about. Like I said, I don’t know very much about ballet. My eyes aren’t critical to the specifics of the dances, but I was unaware of mistakes and critiques in a borderline blissful way. I enjoyed something pretty and stunning. And I really, really liked it.
The setting was cunning, and extremely clever. There were things I didn’t expect to be used at all – like shadows, or smoke, the front of a train, audio of clapping – which I did mistake for the audience – and so forth. The ideas behind the production seemed big and well-thought out. Something daring but equally safe.
Review Beauty and the Beast by Sian Thomas
(4 / 5)
Like everyone else, I have my favourite Disney movie and my favourite Disney princess. Beauty and the Beast has never really been one of my favourite tales. Something about the story always seemed to spook me, in a way that made me wary or apprehensive. Also, I was never as bookish as I am now, and I suppose I couldn’t relate to Belle in the way I can, now.
I want to start by saying that the film was visually stunning. It was, in all honesty, gorgeous. This includes the CGI, the minute details, the outfits. Everything. There was so much detail and so much effort put into the intricacy of the entire film that I was blown away entirely. I was in awe, so much so there were times throughout the film I felt that I’d left behind my cinema seat and been somewhere else entirely, somewhere within the story itself.
The story was the same, obviously. Though, there were newer elements added in to account for some of the plot-holes in the animated movie. I think the last time I watch Beauty and the Beast was at least three years ago. I remember that I did like it, I never completely disliked it, but I always had my disdain about the tale. This time around however, I was completely engrossed, and I liked it much more than I remembered ever feeling so before.
The songs were incredible. I don’t have much else to say about them, because in all honestly I just really and truly loved them.
I had already heard a lot about the film including a gay character. Which it did, and I was definitely glad about it. It was a lot more subtle than I had expected, though. And I had thought that the gigantic franchise that is Disney would, for sure, go a little bigger with it. I wasn’t let down, per se, I very much loved that it was included. And subtlety isn’t technically something bad, either. I had just definitely assumed that it would have been bigger. It didn’t meet my expectations, but was still great and wonderful to see on the big screen.
The movie was grand, with some parts that were truly tragic and some completely exuberant. I give it 4 stars.
Review The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini by Sian Thomas
(5 / 5)
I recently read The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, and I don’t know if I have the words to describe my reaction to it.
Five stars, first of all, let’s start there. I don’t think I want anyone I’m close to missing out on such an outstanding and completely mesmerising book like this one. I’ve read so many books lately, and all of them have been good, but I think they have been good in their own right. However, none of them (at least, none of the recent ones I’ve read) have been quite as enthralling as this.
I don’t want to go too far into the plot (I don’t think, for one, I could do it justice as it was incredibly intertwined and intricate), however I do want to say that it’s probably the saddest and most bittersweet plots I’ve ever had the utmost pleasure to experience. Two boys in Afghanistan, their lives and endeavours and trials and tribulations to come – everything life throws at them. It was truly tragic, with sprinkling happiness and and overall wonderful redemption.
Sad stories are the best ones, I think. But I never expected this tale to be so true of that statement and also, somehow, change it. Sad stories are the best stories. I’ve learnt about the concept of catharsis at school and I think I really, truly, felt it. So maybe sad stories are the best ones, but maybe the sadness should be in moderation for me (it was really, honest and truly, the most heart wrenching and devastating yet amazing books I’ve ever read).
One of the things I’ve noticed after reading this was how sure I usually am that, as a reader, I am going to receive my happy ending. This book changed that. Situation after situation that tugged my heartstrings and made me tearful made me less and less sure of myself. I’ve felt the normal, almost-rush of fear when you notice a book has a lot to complete yet so little pages to do it in. And I had that with this book. Yet, with every other book I’ve read I haven’t truly felt afraid that things wouldn’t work out. I always knew they would, because they always do. I didn’t have this with this book.
I was unsure. A good kind of unsure. An exciting and all-encompassing unsure that left me not knowing if there could possibly be a happy ending coming my way after the turmoil the main character (Amir) had gone through, as well as the turmoil all the other characters had gone through, as well. There was one, single chapter left, and I did not know whether, within about the forty minutes it would take me to read it, I would be grinning or crying. Eventually, it was both, and I’m quite happy with that.
As I said, it was an extremely bittersweet book, with the excellent kind of plot execution that always draws you in for the entire time (and then some – I’ve only just finished it and it’s still the only thing on my mind). It had the kind of writing that was honestly beautiful, full of lovely description and meaningful dialogue and fantastic general, actual, real storytelling which struck a cord somewhere within me and really made my heart feel for it(/the characters).
I bought it to expand my horizons, to diversify my bookshelf. And I’m so glad I did. I went in borderline completely blind, and I came out the other side a little different to how I went in. I’ve been given a history lesson, a gratitude lesson, and probably also a lesson on writing (which I hope to carry into the future).
I feel as if, through reading this book, the kind of problems I have faced or am expecting to face have been minimised and put a little into place. Which doesn’t erase them, but does make me feel a lot more at ease with my life tonight than it did when I woke up in the morning. And I like that. I’m happy I got that. It was unexpected and nice, almost like an extra gift from the author as well as a phenomenal experience.