Battle of the Titans The adaptations of mythological plots over and over again in recent years have turned out to be one worse than another, but the trend continues to gradually increase ambition, here and there popping up stillborn and soulless corpses of unfinished films. And yet, something of this even has commercial success, spawns sequels, spin-offs, sometimes slides into movies shot immediately for DVD, and even has its own fans. Like many other films, though. Both good and bad.
Tarsem Singh, whose visual fantasies are struggling with plot, acting and all sorts of logic, likes to take some Jennifer Lopez into a completely empty action, play absolute nonsense on the screen, and then suddenly be remembered by the whole scene of a cut horse or some other visual technique pretending to be something rare and unique. And despite the nightmarish “Cage” with “Overseas”, Singh’s new creation is a little bit of a step forward for the director if there is due enthusiasm in action scenes and using slow-mo without meticulous Snyder’s camera rotation for three hours around the hero before he or he is struck again. The violence of the new Singh painting is spectacular and rich, but with all the abundance of blood, this action is really small, and the final clash is ridiculous and indistinct, unlike the fight of a bunch of gods with a handful of Titans.
The battle of men, the battle of the gods, the battle of the titans and, finally, the battle of Theseus with Hyperion – all this multilayered culmination was at once protracted, then torn and crumpled.
The entourage of the film turned out to be even more ridiculous than its primitive plot. However, even a direct adaptation of myths could look rather banal and predictable story, but what Singh created and twisted here can be called a parody and comedy. The pale scenery and bleak landscapes evoke only anguish, not the horror of the military era. Rubber armor causes only laughter, but the main object of shame here is not even completely absent acting, but hats!
Singh approached the headdresses of the characters with such a sense of perversion that Lady Gaga must now burst from the wind with her freaky fashion, adopting the entire palette of bizarre hats and hats. The robes of the priests, the endless masks of the detachment of Hyperion and his mask of the “spiked rabbit” with horn-ears in the manner of the jaws of a beetle, four variations of hats for priestesses, and the costumes of the gods at all must be seen to laugh from the heart for yourself. The Iroquois of swords, wings the size of the actor himself, and what was on the head of Poseidon is not really possible to understand at all. The idiocy of the outfits and their unnaturalness go so far that all this looks like a production of a male gay circle in which half-naked men in fancy clothes try to overcome each other.
Watching all this abomination in fancy hats is incredibly boring. In all the initial fuss, you wait with the hope that a story is about to appear. Heroes die in the end, the gods are not inferior to them (do not in fact show even elementary capabilities and abilities - except that once they let a wave, but sometimes jump from heaven to earth with golden rays of goodness and justice...).
There is practically no acting in the picture. The fact that Henry Cavill is absolutely inept was clear from the Tudors and the choice of him for the lead role in the new film by Zack Snyder, but the rest of us could try! Mickey Rourke here occupies a volumetric amount of timekeeping with his infinitely identical face, but he has absolutely nothing to play, both in facial expressions and actions. To set fire, to kill, to give orders, to tell about the source of his anger against the world and the gods, and all this without any involvement in what is happening. Immediately recalls the equally inexpressive Lang in the new “Conan”.
The gods in this movie are even more indignant than anyone else. First of all, the pantheon itself has pretty thinned out, leaving for some reason only a handful of pompous youngsters, fit to star only in “Twilight” and “The Vampire Diaries”, and in addition to them there is a charming Isabel Lucas, from whom there is very little use, at least stripped... but the only one trying to somehow play on emotions – Luke Evans as Zeus. Zeus of him, of course, absolutely nothing, but a bright spot in the total absence of acting he still became. You can also note Frida Pinto - a virgin oracle who wants to break with visions and innocence - this is clearly a character worthy of attention.
Singh is so immersed in the visual style of performance, which in general is not much different from the same Snyder and his “Spartans”, that he is not at all interested in either the characters, nor the plot, nor the fact that the costumes are theatrical squalid and funny, and the acting does not smell even in the mind, he is much more important hats on these same actors and actresses, the appearance of headgears and their movement in space. Here he managed even from the Minotaur to make not a chthonic monster, not a mythical monster, but an ordinary wrestler in a bull mask. It’s time for Singh to take a swipe at some comic book movie where masks and cloaks are more important than any plot and the people behind them. On the other hand, God forbid we watch this comic book. It is better to take it for yourself.
Because of cheap outfits and unimpressive surroundings, it doesn’t smell like even a big budget. Blood in most cases is clearly drawn and computerized, the gods practically do not show their powers, there are no monsters and monsters from mythology. No centaurs, no fauns, no minotaurs. Everything is played out with a play, cheap and amateur, too cruel for children and too stupid and ridiculous for an adult.
Tarsem Singh filmed his gay parade, setting the style and theme in the form of myths about Theseus - the hero of myths and legends. The promised visual beauty does not have to wait, in the final fight does not leave the feeling that even the Spartans and even a hundred would famously cope with all the worthless army of the king in the costume of a rabbit, and the main character will throw phrases like “War in the yard!” from which the hall over such a jester will just be laughing.
The fact that Singh has managed to shoot a ridiculous line that is better than the similar attempts of Snyder and Laterier, does not make him a good director. And the absence of monsters in the picture does not make it believable, naturalistic or, God forbid, historical. A vile and rotten spectacle with faint glimpses (Evans' play, the dismemberment of the Titans, Pinto naked) and huge minuses, leaving an extremely unpleasant sensation after watching. And then either the viewer needs to understand that Singh does not know how to make films in principle, or Tarsem himself must stop milking the bull and return to creating video clips (with male models for women and gay magazines). There is nothing to do in the cinema.
3 out of 10
Original