Director: Martin Campbell
Writer: David Marconi
Release Date: October 13, 2017
It’s Jane Wick.
Okay, sorry, that’s not entirely accurate. But I’ve had that joke lined up since the first trailer, and while it might not be my best work, I needed to get it off my chest. It’s half right, anyway. Atomic Blonde is about a badass super-spy punching, shooting and stabbing her way through a stylized aesthetic under the direction of David Leitch. Certainly sounds like John Wick to me.
But, alas, Atomic Blonde isn’t that – at least not all the time. In reality, it’s based on a moderately obscure graphic novel, The Coldest City, and takes the form, structurally and tonally, of a twisty Cold War espionage thriller full of Soviet skulduggery and collapsing communist regimes. Which isn’t exactly what was advertised.
[As this is an analysis post, please be aware that this may contain spoilers. If you have not watched the film, and you do not want to know what happens in the story, then please do not continue reading.]
Warrior (2011) is more than just a mixed martial arts film. After my most recent watch of the feature, I sat there wondering how it still manages to give me goosebumps in the final fight between the two warring brothers. Why am I on the edge of my sofa, with my hands together, forgetting the room that I sit in, feeling tense about something I have seen plenty of times? You could argue that this is a typical reaction when watching a film regarding a professional sport, but Warrior feels different. It is not just the fights that matter, there is much more to it than that. The film is about human failure.
You are, in essence, watching three men, all with flaws, all at fault for something in the past, and despite the many meanings in the film, I am unreservedly convinced that none of them deserves each other.
As the great Buddha once said, “Marvel’s Iron Fist is pretty mediocre.”
Don’t take that the wrong way. I know you’ve seen the absurd critical reaction to this show, and I want you to know that I’m not here to declare Iron Fist some kind of racist travesty like a lot of other critics have. But I hope you don’t expect me to shower it with praise, because that’s not happening either. It’s okay. Just okay. Maybe, on balance, a little bit more enjoyable than Luke Cage, about on par with the weaker half of Daredevil’s second season, and nowhere near the same calibre as Jessica Jones, the first season of Daredevil, or anything involving The Punisher. If that’s all you wanted to know, there you have it. Review’s over.