Star Wars Episode VIII - The Last Jedi (TÓPICO OFICIAL)

[Bat Esponja]

huehuehuehue

Visualizar anexo 46338

Podia vir um brinquedo da Rose Tico de brinde

 

[Goris]

Estavam pensando que Infinity War ia ficar pisando em Star Wars sem que houvesse uma resposta? Pensaram errado, meus caros! É hora de episódio novo de Damage Control.

S03E08 - O jeito certo de lidar com uma franquia: cuspir na cara dos fãs, como feito em TLJ! Infinity War fez tudo errado!


The Right Way to Deal With Franchise History
‘Avengers: Infinity War’ and ‘Star Wars: The Last Jedi’ both use their fans’ years of emotional investment as a weapon, but the latter boldly does so without a safety net

With Disney quickly morphing into entertainment’s many-faced, multipurpose god, it’s not the least bit surprising that two of the biggest blockbusters of the past year are Mouse House productions. Avengers: Infinity War and Star Wars: The Last Jedi were capital-E Events—the former a massive cinematic crossover and the culmination of a decade of universe-building from Marvel Studios, and the latter a highly touted continuation of a new trilogy that promised darker undertones. Both movies hit theaters with a built-in audience: the millions who had stuck around to see the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s prior 18 films were guaranteed to tune in for the payoff in Infinity War. Star Wars, meanwhile, has been a cultural touchstone since its birth in the late ’70s, a phenomenon that with 2015’s The Force Awakens, appeared to have its groove back after a string of disappointing prequels in the early aughts. But where these blockbusters stand apart is in the way they wielded, subverted, and perhaps even exploited the expectations of their most ardent fans.

The history that both franchises have with their fans, some of whom grew up alongside these characters (don’t ask me about the fine additions to my General Grievous collection), engenders a deep emotional investment. Both franchises have cultivated this relationship for years—through their films, companion books, TV series, and fan conventions. But in Infinity War and The Last Jedi, both franchises deliberately disrupted the history the fan bases held so dear, delivering hefty gut-punches. In Infinity War, the long-hyped villain Thanos successfully acquired all six Infinity Stones, and with the snap of his fingers, eliminated half of the universe’s population—along with a handful of superheroes, including Spider-Man, Bucky Barnes, and Black Panther. The Last Jedi transformed Luke Skywalker into an aggravating, pessimistic, alien-milking, reticent Jedi Master, and that was before he sacrificed himself to save the few remaining Rebels, who could comfortably fit inside the Millennium Falcon. Even Mark Hamill had a hard time accepting his character’s arc. Neither movie left you with a warm feeling—watching both of them felt like walking through a thunderstorm without an umbrella.

However, the receptions to Disney’s latest mega-events—both commercially and in online circles—have been noticeably different. Infinity War broke the global and domestic box office opening-weekend records, and its 84 percent “fresh” Rotten Tomatoes rating is on par with the rest of the MCU. Only Black Panther and the first Avengers movie have a higher CinemaScore grade among MCU movies. The same can’t be said for The Last Jedi, which had a box office haul that was disappointing by Star Warsstandards. The film had a steep 69 percent drop-off after its opening weekend, and while its 47 percent “rotten” Rotten Tomatoes audience score is more the result of a troll campaign than a unifying consensus, there was an indisputable backlash to Rian Johnson’s movie that didn’t exist with J.J. Abrams’s The Force Awakens.

But the polarizing reaction to The Last Jedi isn’t a sign of the film’s shortcomings; rather, it’s a sign of its audacity. The Last Jedi let its characters and story evolve, even if that meant destroying the foundations from which the franchise was built, and polarizing some of its fans along the way. Kylo Ren said it best: “Let the past die; kill it, if you have to.”

Today, The Empire Strikes Back may be considered Star Wars’ finest entry, but it had a similarly polarizing receptionfrom fans in 1980. Darth Vader’s “I am your father” moment is now ingrained in the cultural lexicon, but it was one of cinema’s most unexpected, game-changing twists, and Han Solo being frozen in carbonite was a chilling image (literally) that wouldn’t be resolved for another three years. Like Empire, The Last Jedi didn’t retreat from its shocking moments: Yes, Luke wasn’t a flawless, mythological Jedi hero; yes, Rey’s parents were nobodies with no ties to the Skywalker or Kenobi bloodline; yes, the fan favorite Admiral Ackbar really died an unceremonious, off-screen death; and yes, Luke is really gone too.

But The Last Jedi didn’t just impart lessons from Empire’s bold storytelling choices—it used Star Wars’ history to subvert expectations, and make a world that’s been around for decades feel lived in for the same amount of time. Luke didn’t exist in narrative stasis in the decades he was left off-screen; instead, like any compelling character, he evolved. The Luke we meet in The Last Jedi is far removed from the bright-eyed farm boy on Tatooine. He’s been weighed down by the hypocrisy of the Jedi order, and his own failings as a teacher that manifested in Kylo Ren. The Last Jedi is a fluid continuation of Star Wars that asks its audience to reconsider their franchise nostalgia and plunge into the deep end along with its characters.

The MCU, meanwhile, seemingly cleared its roster in Infinity War by wiping out half the franchise’s heroes in a heart-wrenching send-off, but it did so with a “Get Out of Jail Free” card in its back pocket. As gutting as it was to watch Peter Parker fear the unknown and say, “I don’t wanna go,” it was impossible not to watch that moment while simultaneously thinking, I know there’s a Spider-Man sequel in the works. The expectation is that Thanos’s Leftovers-esque rapture will be undone—the only question remaining is how. (Leading theories in the clubhouse: the remaining heroes will use the Infinity Stone that can reverse time, or Ant-Man and Captain Marvel will do something involving the “Quantum Realm.”) Characters like Spider-Man and Black Panther, who were ostensibly killed, are the new, young heroes who will shepherd Phase 4 of the MCU, while we know that guys like Captain America and Iron Man, who survived in Infinity War, are played by actors on expiring contracts. What we witnessed wasn’t a bold, sweeping emotional climax, but a gimmick meant to ensure that fans will park their butts in the theater next year to see how this all unfolds.

Perhaps if Infinity War opted to kill its older heroes, or killed off a combination of younger and older heroes—say, a mix of Iron Man, Captain America, Star-Lord, and Bucky Barnes—then the ending might’ve been taken at face value and had a greater, lasting impact. Instead, as most fans probably expect, Avengers 4 should bring its new heroes back and return us to Marvel’s status quo. This is the problem with the MCU in miniature: The emotional and narrative stakes are placated by an infinite loop of new “Phases,” new heroes, and potential franchises to branch out, which will beget more crossover events like Infinity War in the years to come. The franchise doesn’t ponder its own history or how to subvert it; it considers only how to keep feeding its loop ad infinitum. It’s an excellent business plan, but not a way to tell stories with humanity, thematic depth, and real stakes.

And it makes a blockbuster like The Last Jedi feel like a unicorn. By not just considering its own legacy, but letting its new heroes in Rey, Finn, and Poe take the spotlight and represent new values, The Last Jedi epitomizes how a decades-old franchise can handle its history without falling into repetitive traps. Letting the past die is just Star Wars’ way of ensuring its future.


Fonte

Que m**** de texto.
Já começa perdendo credibilidade ao dizer que as notas ruins do filme foram uma campanha de trolls.

E todo o resto cai na linha de defesa mais tosca "É melhor porque é!".

 

[Hiakkimaru]

Tambem senti falta de uma soundtrack epica que marca o filme, SW antigo tinha e ate as prequels tinham e isso nao tem desculpa porque a disney ja fez varias recentemente:

Spoiler

Spoiler

Spoiler

Faltou uma dessas quando o Luke ta enfrentando a first order e o Kylo

 

[Bloodstained]

Eis que, com esse vídeo, o canal WCB fecha uma trilogia melhor que a produzida pela Disney para Star Wars.

​

 

[Bloodstained]

Acho que vem uma nova trilogia boa por aí...

​

 

[Agito]

Se o plot do próximo filme for esse mesmo... Se em dias, a Rey se tornou uma mestre Jedi, em5 anos ela vai se tornar uma deusa, um ponto fora da curva. Sem falar que eles já estão preparando a próxima protagonista da nova trilogia que vem seguir, essa com certeza, tem tudo para ser bem mais foda que a Rey. Destaque para mais um momento totalmente girl power da Leia, o único personagem da trilogia clássica que não teve seu status quo cagado, pelo contrário, até voar ela voa agora.

 

[Bloodstained]

Velho, os caras simplesmente são incapazes de deixar a campanha em defesa de TLJ morrer. Era mais fácil se ficassem quietos pois, dessa forma, eventualmente as pessoas iriam se esquecer dessa joça de filme. Ao invés disso, continuam escrevendo artigos em defesa dessa bagaça... Enquanto continuarem a fazer isso, outras pessoas irão refutar tais artigos, mostrando o viés ideológico que há por trás de cada um deles. Assim sendo, lá vamos nós para mais um tie-in entre Infinity War e a melhor série dos últimos tempos: Damage Control.

S03E09 - Infinity War sucks! TLJ é uma lição de como um diretor talentoso deve trabalhar num novo filme de uma longa franquia!


Avengers: Infinity War Flatters Its Fans. The Last Jedi Challenged Them.
Both movies tell only a piece of a larger story, but Jedi confronts failure, and Infinity War runs from it.

Josh Brolin as Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War and Adam Driver as Kylo Ren in Star Wars: The Last Jedi​

This article contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War.

With Avengers: Infinity War and Black Panther crushing box-office records, and a Han Solo movie opening in just a few weeks, Disney is once again asserting its big-studio dominance through two seemingly unstoppable franchises: the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Star Wars. Marvel appears to have the upper hand in the office competition for now, both in revenue and presumed fan satisfaction—which is to say that the Russo brothers’ Infinity War doesn’t appear to be dividing its fan base like Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: The Last Jedi did at the end of 2017, despite a similarly risky undermining of the series’ status quo.

Both movies take their cues from the gold standard of surprise bummers, The Empire Strikes Back. The Last Jedi, like its cinematic cousin, is a trilogy’s middle chapter that ends with its heroes outnumbered, outgunned, and less certain of their victory than they were at the end of the previous installment. Infinity War, if anything, goes darker; not only does the movie end on a cliffhanger that leaves its villain, Thanos, ahead of its army of superheroes, many of the superheroes disintegrate into dust at the snap of the big purple guy’s newly empowered fingers. The movie ends with its villain basking in the glow of a job well-done, and its heroes counting their dead.

Despite reports of younger viewers bursting into tears, this twist (expected by some comics devotees, but not general audiences) leaves most Avengers fans breathless with a combination of exhilaration, surprise, and anticipation. (Reviews have been generally positive too.) The Last Jedi, meanwhile, divided fans with its depiction of a surly, disillusioned Luke Skywalker and its pointedly anticlimactic answer to the question of its heroine’s parentage. The Last Jedi is, however, a much better film and an object lesson in how a talented filmmaker can work around, or simply push past, the inherent limitations of a single entry in a modern forever franchise.

Infinity War’s ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.​

As big a swing as it is for Infinity War to apparently kill off major characters, Marvel’s upcoming release schedule guarantees that some of those deaths won’t be permanent. This is just the act break before next year’s follow-up. In both Infinity War and The Last Jedi, the heroes fail, but only one of the movies gives that failure a chance to sink in. The Last Jedi’s younger heroes, full of can-do spirit in The Force Awakens, get a chance to save the day in their follow-up adventure, and they blow it: Poe Dameron leads a mutiny that turns out to be unnecessary, and Finn and Rose’s side quest is a bust, at least in terms of hacking into an enemy ship’s tracking software. Even Luke Skywalker re-enters the story not as a hero full of wisdom to be passed on to the next generation, but as a man haunted by his past mistakes. We learn that in a moment of fear and despair, he came close to killing his dark-leaning nephew Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), inadvertently sending him further down a Vader-emulating path. The Last Jedi’s characters, both heroes and villains, struggle with whether the past can or should define them, and that past includes failures, not just chosen-one victories.

In Infinity War, failure is merely a plot device. Few of the movie’s characters go through any meaningful change—and that includes most of the characters who wind up dead. They start the movie wanting to stop Thanos, they try to stop Thanos, and they fail to stop Thanos (at least until next May). Their final failure isn’t something the characters grapple with for more than a few moments, and while the lack of falling action increases the shock value, it also blunts the movie’s emotional charge; little about it lingers. Despite all of Infinity War’s elaborate visual effects and coherently staged battles, there’s not a single image as striking as the shots of Luke in a cave on his remote island, receding into the shadows, or Rey gasping for breath after approaching the darkness within her—maybe because there’s little of thematic interest to inspire any. Only Thanos gets a moment to reflect on the death of half the universe, and even then only briefly, because to really dig into the specifics of this massive change would make the ending of Infinity War less of a mic-drop cliffhanger. This ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.

Even taking Infinity War’s ending on its own terms does the movie no favors. Confronting the audience with the deaths of beloved characters isn’t especially impressive when those characters are beloved mainly because of previous, better movies. Serving up their demises to invested fanboys amounts to a perverse sort of audience flattery: Congratulations, you’ve collected enough feelings about Black Panther or Spider-Man to access this special prize! The movie might as well be taking place inside of a vast cereal box.

Granted, at this point it’s hard to draw a distinction between fans of these all-consuming franchises and general audiences: Is anyone not a Star Wars fan? Is anyone who’s not an MCU fan still paying attention? And it’s hard to blame those audiences for enjoying a funny and fast-paced superhero blowout like Infinity War. Even to a skeptic, Infinity War offers a pleasurable buzz of anticipation about what might happen next and whether it can possibly be equal to its cataclysmic setup. But The Last Jedi requires no such waiting period; it’s not up to Episode IX to make Johnson’s movie worthwhile, any more than it was Johnson’s responsibility to pay off every plot thread from The Force Awakens. Jedi ends, in fact, in a way that could easily serve as the capstone for the Star Wars series, even though it has no pretensions of finality. Disgruntled fans threw this achievement back as an insult: After Last Jedi, they were done with Star Wars! What could be worse, after all, than a movie series that’s not trying to immediately lure you back? When thinking of Avengers 4 and which character deaths it may undo (no less than “some” and, hell, possibly as many as “all”), it’s hard not to recall internet commenters wishfully theorizing how Episode IX might write Johnson’s developments out of existence altogether. (“Actually, Rey, I was wrong about your parents being nobodies. Psych!”) Infinity War practically invites that fannish tinkering: Its final twist inspires not thoughts of how its heroes will mourn the death of half the universe but how they will undo it.

But as frustrating as Infinity War is, it does have the advantage of bringing the successes of The Last Jedi into even stronger focus, offering reassurance that a talented filmmaker really can make distinctive art out of a franchise crowd pleaser (and The Last Jedi is no more an experimental anti-film than Infinity War is; this is a movie that generously provides the sight of BB-8 driving an AT-ST). Perhaps in its way, The Last Jedi is setting up Avengers 4 too by keeping hope alive that Marvel can pull back from the brink and let its filmmakers experiment, not just with superficial shifts in the status quo but with movies that express a particular point of view—even if that means risking genuine failure.


Fonte

 

[Devon_]

Velho, os caras simplesmente são incapazes de deixar a campanha em defesa de TLJ morrer. Era mais fácil se ficassem quietos pois, dessa forma, eventualmente as pessoas iriam se esquecer dessa joça de filme. Ao invés disso, continuam escrevendo artigos em defesa dessa bagaça... Enquanto continuarem a fazer isso, outras pessoas irão refutar tais artigos, mostrando o viés ideológico que há por trás de cada um deles. Assim sendo, lá vamos nós para mais um tie-in entre Infinity War e a melhor série dos últimos tempos: Damage Control.

S03E09 - Infinity War sucks! TLJ é uma lição de como um diretor talentoso deve trabalhar num novo filme de uma longa franquia!


Avengers: Infinity War Flatters Its Fans. The Last Jedi Challenged Them.
Both movies tell only a piece of a larger story, but Jedi confronts failure, and Infinity War runs from it.

Josh Brolin as Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War and Adam Driver as Kylo Ren in Star Wars: The Last Jedi​

This article contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War.

With Avengers: Infinity War and Black Panther crushing box-office records, and a Han Solo movie opening in just a few weeks, Disney is once again asserting its big-studio dominance through two seemingly unstoppable franchises: the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Star Wars. Marvel appears to have the upper hand in the office competition for now, both in revenue and presumed fan satisfaction—which is to say that the Russo brothers’ Infinity War doesn’t appear to be dividing its fan base like Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: The Last Jedi did at the end of 2017, despite a similarly risky undermining of the series’ status quo.

Both movies take their cues from the gold standard of surprise bummers, The Empire Strikes Back. The Last Jedi, like its cinematic cousin, is a trilogy’s middle chapter that ends with its heroes outnumbered, outgunned, and less certain of their victory than they were at the end of the previous installment. Infinity War, if anything, goes darker; not only does the movie end on a cliffhanger that leaves its villain, Thanos, ahead of its army of superheroes, many of the superheroes disintegrate into dust at the snap of the big purple guy’s newly empowered fingers. The movie ends with its villain basking in the glow of a job well-done, and its heroes counting their dead.

Despite reports of younger viewers bursting into tears, this twist (expected by some comics devotees, but not general audiences) leaves most Avengers fans breathless with a combination of exhilaration, surprise, and anticipation. (Reviews have been generally positive too.) The Last Jedi, meanwhile, divided fans with its depiction of a surly, disillusioned Luke Skywalker and its pointedly anticlimactic answer to the question of its heroine’s parentage. The Last Jedi is, however, a much better film and an object lesson in how a talented filmmaker can work around, or simply push past, the inherent limitations of a single entry in a modern forever franchise.

Infinity War’s ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.​

As big a swing as it is for Infinity War to apparently kill off major characters, Marvel’s upcoming release schedule guarantees that some of those deaths won’t be permanent. This is just the act break before next year’s follow-up. In both Infinity War and The Last Jedi, the heroes fail, but only one of the movies gives that failure a chance to sink in. The Last Jedi’s younger heroes, full of can-do spirit in The Force Awakens, get a chance to save the day in their follow-up adventure, and they blow it: Poe Dameron leads a mutiny that turns out to be unnecessary, and Finn and Rose’s side quest is a bust, at least in terms of hacking into an enemy ship’s tracking software. Even Luke Skywalker re-enters the story not as a hero full of wisdom to be passed on to the next generation, but as a man haunted by his past mistakes. We learn that in a moment of fear and despair, he came close to killing his dark-leaning nephew Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), inadvertently sending him further down a Vader-emulating path. The Last Jedi’s characters, both heroes and villains, struggle with whether the past can or should define them, and that past includes failures, not just chosen-one victories.

In Infinity War, failure is merely a plot device. Few of the movie’s characters go through any meaningful change—and that includes most of the characters who wind up dead. They start the movie wanting to stop Thanos, they try to stop Thanos, and they fail to stop Thanos (at least until next May). Their final failure isn’t something the characters grapple with for more than a few moments, and while the lack of falling action increases the shock value, it also blunts the movie’s emotional charge; little about it lingers. Despite all of Infinity War’s elaborate visual effects and coherently staged battles, there’s not a single image as striking as the shots of Luke in a cave on his remote island, receding into the shadows, or Rey gasping for breath after approaching the darkness within her—maybe because there’s little of thematic interest to inspire any. Only Thanos gets a moment to reflect on the death of half the universe, and even then only briefly, because to really dig into the specifics of this massive change would make the ending of Infinity War less of a mic-drop cliffhanger. This ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.

Even taking Infinity War’s ending on its own terms does the movie no favors. Confronting the audience with the deaths of beloved characters isn’t especially impressive when those characters are beloved mainly because of previous, better movies. Serving up their demises to invested fanboys amounts to a perverse sort of audience flattery: Congratulations, you’ve collected enough feelings about Black Panther or Spider-Man to access this special prize! The movie might as well be taking place inside of a vast cereal box.

Granted, at this point it’s hard to draw a distinction between fans of these all-consuming franchises and general audiences: Is anyone not a Star Wars fan? Is anyone who’s not an MCU fan still paying attention? And it’s hard to blame those audiences for enjoying a funny and fast-paced superhero blowout like Infinity War. Even to a skeptic, Infinity War offers a pleasurable buzz of anticipation about what might happen next and whether it can possibly be equal to its cataclysmic setup. But The Last Jedi requires no such waiting period; it’s not up to Episode IX to make Johnson’s movie worthwhile, any more than it was Johnson’s responsibility to pay off every plot thread from The Force Awakens. Jedi ends, in fact, in a way that could easily serve as the capstone for the Star Wars series, even though it has no pretensions of finality. Disgruntled fans threw this achievement back as an insult: After Last Jedi, they were done with Star Wars! What could be worse, after all, than a movie series that’s not trying to immediately lure you back? When thinking of Avengers 4 and which character deaths it may undo (no less than “some” and, hell, possibly as many as “all”), it’s hard not to recall internet commenters wishfully theorizing how Episode IX might write Johnson’s developments out of existence altogether. (“Actually, Rey, I was wrong about your parents being nobodies. Psych!”) Infinity War practically invites that fannish tinkering: Its final twist inspires not thoughts of how its heroes will mourn the death of half the universe but how they will undo it.

But as frustrating as Infinity War is, it does have the advantage of bringing the successes of The Last Jedi into even stronger focus, offering reassurance that a talented filmmaker really can make distinctive art out of a franchise crowd pleaser (and The Last Jedi is no more an experimental anti-film than Infinity War is; this is a movie that generously provides the sight of BB-8 driving an AT-ST). Perhaps in its way, The Last Jedi is setting up Avengers 4 too by keeping hope alive that Marvel can pull back from the brink and let its filmmakers experiment, not just with superficial shifts in the status quo but with movies that express a particular point of view—even if that means risking genuine failure.


Fonte

Rapaz, nessa se superaram... nunca li tanta m**** num texto só

Enviado de meu SM-A910F usando o Tapatalk

 

[GadoMuuuuu]

Velho, os caras simplesmente são incapazes de deixar a campanha em defesa de TLJ morrer. Era mais fácil se ficassem quietos pois, dessa forma, eventualmente as pessoas iriam se esquecer dessa joça de filme. Ao invés disso, continuam escrevendo artigos em defesa dessa bagaça... Enquanto continuarem a fazer isso, outras pessoas irão refutar tais artigos, mostrando o viés ideológico que há por trás de cada um deles. Assim sendo, lá vamos nós para mais um tie-in entre Infinity War e a melhor série dos últimos tempos: Damage Control.

S03E09 - Infinity War sucks! TLJ é uma lição de como um diretor talentoso deve trabalhar num novo filme de uma longa franquia!


Avengers: Infinity War Flatters Its Fans. The Last Jedi Challenged Them.
Both movies tell only a piece of a larger story, but Jedi confronts failure, and Infinity War runs from it.

Josh Brolin as Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War and Adam Driver as Kylo Ren in Star Wars: The Last Jedi​

This article contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War.

With Avengers: Infinity War and Black Panther crushing box-office records, and a Han Solo movie opening in just a few weeks, Disney is once again asserting its big-studio dominance through two seemingly unstoppable franchises: the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Star Wars. Marvel appears to have the upper hand in the office competition for now, both in revenue and presumed fan satisfaction—which is to say that the Russo brothers’ Infinity War doesn’t appear to be dividing its fan base like Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: The Last Jedi did at the end of 2017, despite a similarly risky undermining of the series’ status quo.

Both movies take their cues from the gold standard of surprise bummers, The Empire Strikes Back. The Last Jedi, like its cinematic cousin, is a trilogy’s middle chapter that ends with its heroes outnumbered, outgunned, and less certain of their victory than they were at the end of the previous installment. Infinity War, if anything, goes darker; not only does the movie end on a cliffhanger that leaves its villain, Thanos, ahead of its army of superheroes, many of the superheroes disintegrate into dust at the snap of the big purple guy’s newly empowered fingers. The movie ends with its villain basking in the glow of a job well-done, and its heroes counting their dead.

Despite reports of younger viewers bursting into tears, this twist (expected by some comics devotees, but not general audiences) leaves most Avengers fans breathless with a combination of exhilaration, surprise, and anticipation. (Reviews have been generally positive too.) The Last Jedi, meanwhile, divided fans with its depiction of a surly, disillusioned Luke Skywalker and its pointedly anticlimactic answer to the question of its heroine’s parentage. The Last Jedi is, however, a much better film and an object lesson in how a talented filmmaker can work around, or simply push past, the inherent limitations of a single entry in a modern forever franchise.

Infinity War’s ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.​

As big a swing as it is for Infinity War to apparently kill off major characters, Marvel’s upcoming release schedule guarantees that some of those deaths won’t be permanent. This is just the act break before next year’s follow-up. In both Infinity War and The Last Jedi, the heroes fail, but only one of the movies gives that failure a chance to sink in. The Last Jedi’s younger heroes, full of can-do spirit in The Force Awakens, get a chance to save the day in their follow-up adventure, and they blow it: Poe Dameron leads a mutiny that turns out to be unnecessary, and Finn and Rose’s side quest is a bust, at least in terms of hacking into an enemy ship’s tracking software. Even Luke Skywalker re-enters the story not as a hero full of wisdom to be passed on to the next generation, but as a man haunted by his past mistakes. We learn that in a moment of fear and despair, he came close to killing his dark-leaning nephew Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), inadvertently sending him further down a Vader-emulating path. The Last Jedi’s characters, both heroes and villains, struggle with whether the past can or should define them, and that past includes failures, not just chosen-one victories.

In Infinity War, failure is merely a plot device. Few of the movie’s characters go through any meaningful change—and that includes most of the characters who wind up dead. They start the movie wanting to stop Thanos, they try to stop Thanos, and they fail to stop Thanos (at least until next May). Their final failure isn’t something the characters grapple with for more than a few moments, and while the lack of falling action increases the shock value, it also blunts the movie’s emotional charge; little about it lingers. Despite all of Infinity War’s elaborate visual effects and coherently staged battles, there’s not a single image as striking as the shots of Luke in a cave on his remote island, receding into the shadows, or Rey gasping for breath after approaching the darkness within her—maybe because there’s little of thematic interest to inspire any. Only Thanos gets a moment to reflect on the death of half the universe, and even then only briefly, because to really dig into the specifics of this massive change would make the ending of Infinity War less of a mic-drop cliffhanger. This ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.

Even taking Infinity War’s ending on its own terms does the movie no favors. Confronting the audience with the deaths of beloved characters isn’t especially impressive when those characters are beloved mainly because of previous, better movies. Serving up their demises to invested fanboys amounts to a perverse sort of audience flattery: Congratulations, you’ve collected enough feelings about Black Panther or Spider-Man to access this special prize! The movie might as well be taking place inside of a vast cereal box.

Granted, at this point it’s hard to draw a distinction between fans of these all-consuming franchises and general audiences: Is anyone not a Star Wars fan? Is anyone who’s not an MCU fan still paying attention? And it’s hard to blame those audiences for enjoying a funny and fast-paced superhero blowout like Infinity War. Even to a skeptic, Infinity War offers a pleasurable buzz of anticipation about what might happen next and whether it can possibly be equal to its cataclysmic setup. But The Last Jedi requires no such waiting period; it’s not up to Episode IX to make Johnson’s movie worthwhile, any more than it was Johnson’s responsibility to pay off every plot thread from The Force Awakens. Jedi ends, in fact, in a way that could easily serve as the capstone for the Star Wars series, even though it has no pretensions of finality. Disgruntled fans threw this achievement back as an insult: After Last Jedi, they were done with Star Wars! What could be worse, after all, than a movie series that’s not trying to immediately lure you back? When thinking of Avengers 4 and which character deaths it may undo (no less than “some” and, hell, possibly as many as “all”), it’s hard not to recall internet commenters wishfully theorizing how Episode IX might write Johnson’s developments out of existence altogether. (“Actually, Rey, I was wrong about your parents being nobodies. Psych!”) Infinity War practically invites that fannish tinkering: Its final twist inspires not thoughts of how its heroes will mourn the death of half the universe but how they will undo it.

But as frustrating as Infinity War is, it does have the advantage of bringing the successes of The Last Jedi into even stronger focus, offering reassurance that a talented filmmaker really can make distinctive art out of a franchise crowd pleaser (and The Last Jedi is no more an experimental anti-film than Infinity War is; this is a movie that generously provides the sight of BB-8 driving an AT-ST). Perhaps in its way, The Last Jedi is setting up Avengers 4 too by keeping hope alive that Marvel can pull back from the brink and let its filmmakers experiment, not just with superficial shifts in the status quo but with movies that express a particular point of view—even if that means risking genuine failure.


Fonte

Gostaria de saber muito se o Slate recebe uma grana ou alguma vantagem por esses textos toscos deles ou se é só cegueira dos editores dela mesmo.

 

[Goris]

Gostaria de saber muito se o Slate recebe uma grana ou alguma vantagem por esses textos toscos deles ou se é só cegueira dos editores dela mesmo.

Ideologia tbm pode ser um fator.

Tipo, As Caça-Fantasmas foi um dos filmes mais defendidos pelos SJWs uns anos atrás porque ele pegava todas as bandeiras feministas e, principalmente, servia aos SJWs como plataforma para atacar todo mundo que não achasse o filme a oitava maravilha.

Só que ninguém viu o filme depois dele lançar.isso mesmo, os mesmos SJWs que brigaram, ofenderam e xingaram tanto o público normal que, ofendido, não foi ver o filme, tbm não assistiram.

Logo, ainda que possam falar de como as pessoas deixaram o filme fracassar por serem machistas, sempre tinham a culpa deles mesmos.não terem ido ver.

Já The Last Jedi é um filme que estavam esperando bilheteria de 2 bilhões, mas arrecadou 700.000.000 dólares a menos por causa dos fãs não terem gostado.

Mas o filme ainda serve se palco. "Vejam, o filme foi um sucesso, fez mais de um bilhão de bilheteria, quem não gostou é porque é machista, taxista, maquinista...".

A pessoa acaba por considerar que defender o filme é lutar contra quem não gosta de mulher, de negros, gosta do Trump e de hackers russos. Basta ver que toda crítica sempre solta alt-right ou 4Chan ou etc..

 

[Iron_Sword]

Estavam pensando que Infinity War ia ficar pisando em Star Wars sem que houvesse uma resposta? Pensaram errado, meus caros! É hora de episódio novo de Damage Control.

S03E08 - O jeito certo de lidar com uma franquia: cuspir na cara dos fãs, como feito em TLJ! Infinity War fez tudo errado!


The Right Way to Deal With Franchise History
‘Avengers: Infinity War’ and ‘Star Wars: The Last Jedi’ both use their fans’ years of emotional investment as a weapon, but the latter boldly does so without a safety net

With Disney quickly morphing into entertainment’s many-faced, multipurpose god, it’s not the least bit surprising that two of the biggest blockbusters of the past year are Mouse House productions. Avengers: Infinity War and Star Wars: The Last Jedi were capital-E Events—the former a massive cinematic crossover and the culmination of a decade of universe-building from Marvel Studios, and the latter a highly touted continuation of a new trilogy that promised darker undertones. Both movies hit theaters with a built-in audience: the millions who had stuck around to see the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s prior 18 films were guaranteed to tune in for the payoff in Infinity War. Star Wars, meanwhile, has been a cultural touchstone since its birth in the late ’70s, a phenomenon that with 2015’s The Force Awakens, appeared to have its groove back after a string of disappointing prequels in the early aughts. But where these blockbusters stand apart is in the way they wielded, subverted, and perhaps even exploited the expectations of their most ardent fans.

The history that both franchises have with their fans, some of whom grew up alongside these characters (don’t ask me about the fine additions to my General Grievous collection), engenders a deep emotional investment. Both franchises have cultivated this relationship for years—through their films, companion books, TV series, and fan conventions. But in Infinity War and The Last Jedi, both franchises deliberately disrupted the history the fan bases held so dear, delivering hefty gut-punches. In Infinity War, the long-hyped villain Thanos successfully acquired all six Infinity Stones, and with the snap of his fingers, eliminated half of the universe’s population—along with a handful of superheroes, including Spider-Man, Bucky Barnes, and Black Panther. The Last Jedi transformed Luke Skywalker into an aggravating, pessimistic, alien-milking, reticent Jedi Master, and that was before he sacrificed himself to save the few remaining Rebels, who could comfortably fit inside the Millennium Falcon. Even Mark Hamill had a hard time accepting his character’s arc. Neither movie left you with a warm feeling—watching both of them felt like walking through a thunderstorm without an umbrella.

However, the receptions to Disney’s latest mega-events—both commercially and in online circles—have been noticeably different. Infinity War broke the global and domestic box office opening-weekend records, and its 84 percent “fresh” Rotten Tomatoes rating is on par with the rest of the MCU. Only Black Panther and the first Avengers movie have a higher CinemaScore grade among MCU movies. The same can’t be said for The Last Jedi, which had a box office haul that was disappointing by Star Warsstandards. The film had a steep 69 percent drop-off after its opening weekend, and while its 47 percent “rotten” Rotten Tomatoes audience score is more the result of a troll campaign than a unifying consensus, there was an indisputable backlash to Rian Johnson’s movie that didn’t exist with J.J. Abrams’s The Force Awakens.

But the polarizing reaction to The Last Jedi isn’t a sign of the film’s shortcomings; rather, it’s a sign of its audacity. The Last Jedi let its characters and story evolve, even if that meant destroying the foundations from which the franchise was built, and polarizing some of its fans along the way. Kylo Ren said it best: “Let the past die; kill it, if you have to.”

Today, The Empire Strikes Back may be considered Star Wars’ finest entry, but it had a similarly polarizing receptionfrom fans in 1980. Darth Vader’s “I am your father” moment is now ingrained in the cultural lexicon, but it was one of cinema’s most unexpected, game-changing twists, and Han Solo being frozen in carbonite was a chilling image (literally) that wouldn’t be resolved for another three years. Like Empire, The Last Jedi didn’t retreat from its shocking moments: Yes, Luke wasn’t a flawless, mythological Jedi hero; yes, Rey’s parents were nobodies with no ties to the Skywalker or Kenobi bloodline; yes, the fan favorite Admiral Ackbar really died an unceremonious, off-screen death; and yes, Luke is really gone too.

But The Last Jedi didn’t just impart lessons from Empire’s bold storytelling choices—it used Star Wars’ history to subvert expectations, and make a world that’s been around for decades feel lived in for the same amount of time. Luke didn’t exist in narrative stasis in the decades he was left off-screen; instead, like any compelling character, he evolved. The Luke we meet in The Last Jedi is far removed from the bright-eyed farm boy on Tatooine. He’s been weighed down by the hypocrisy of the Jedi order, and his own failings as a teacher that manifested in Kylo Ren. The Last Jedi is a fluid continuation of Star Wars that asks its audience to reconsider their franchise nostalgia and plunge into the deep end along with its characters.

The MCU, meanwhile, seemingly cleared its roster in Infinity War by wiping out half the franchise’s heroes in a heart-wrenching send-off, but it did so with a “Get Out of Jail Free” card in its back pocket. As gutting as it was to watch Peter Parker fear the unknown and say, “I don’t wanna go,” it was impossible not to watch that moment while simultaneously thinking, I know there’s a Spider-Man sequel in the works. The expectation is that Thanos’s Leftovers-esque rapture will be undone—the only question remaining is how. (Leading theories in the clubhouse: the remaining heroes will use the Infinity Stone that can reverse time, or Ant-Man and Captain Marvel will do something involving the “Quantum Realm.”) Characters like Spider-Man and Black Panther, who were ostensibly killed, are the new, young heroes who will shepherd Phase 4 of the MCU, while we know that guys like Captain America and Iron Man, who survived in Infinity War, are played by actors on expiring contracts. What we witnessed wasn’t a bold, sweeping emotional climax, but a gimmick meant to ensure that fans will park their butts in the theater next year to see how this all unfolds.

Perhaps if Infinity War opted to kill its older heroes, or killed off a combination of younger and older heroes—say, a mix of Iron Man, Captain America, Star-Lord, and Bucky Barnes—then the ending might’ve been taken at face value and had a greater, lasting impact. Instead, as most fans probably expect, Avengers 4 should bring its new heroes back and return us to Marvel’s status quo. This is the problem with the MCU in miniature: The emotional and narrative stakes are placated by an infinite loop of new “Phases,” new heroes, and potential franchises to branch out, which will beget more crossover events like Infinity War in the years to come. The franchise doesn’t ponder its own history or how to subvert it; it considers only how to keep feeding its loop ad infinitum. It’s an excellent business plan, but not a way to tell stories with humanity, thematic depth, and real stakes.

And it makes a blockbuster like The Last Jedi feel like a unicorn. By not just considering its own legacy, but letting its new heroes in Rey, Finn, and Poe take the spotlight and represent new values, The Last Jedi epitomizes how a decades-old franchise can handle its history without falling into repetitive traps. Letting the past die is just Star Wars’ way of ensuring its future.


Fonte

Velho, os caras simplesmente são incapazes de deixar a campanha em defesa de TLJ morrer. Era mais fácil se ficassem quietos pois, dessa forma, eventualmente as pessoas iriam se esquecer dessa joça de filme. Ao invés disso, continuam escrevendo artigos em defesa dessa bagaça... Enquanto continuarem a fazer isso, outras pessoas irão refutar tais artigos, mostrando o viés ideológico que há por trás de cada um deles. Assim sendo, lá vamos nós para mais um tie-in entre Infinity War e a melhor série dos últimos tempos: Damage Control.

S03E09 - Infinity War sucks! TLJ é uma lição de como um diretor talentoso deve trabalhar num novo filme de uma longa franquia!


Avengers: Infinity War Flatters Its Fans. The Last Jedi Challenged Them.
Both movies tell only a piece of a larger story, but Jedi confronts failure, and Infinity War runs from it.

Josh Brolin as Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War and Adam Driver as Kylo Ren in Star Wars: The Last Jedi​

This article contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War.

With Avengers: Infinity War and Black Panther crushing box-office records, and a Han Solo movie opening in just a few weeks, Disney is once again asserting its big-studio dominance through two seemingly unstoppable franchises: the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Star Wars. Marvel appears to have the upper hand in the office competition for now, both in revenue and presumed fan satisfaction—which is to say that the Russo brothers’ Infinity War doesn’t appear to be dividing its fan base like Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: The Last Jedi did at the end of 2017, despite a similarly risky undermining of the series’ status quo.

Both movies take their cues from the gold standard of surprise bummers, The Empire Strikes Back. The Last Jedi, like its cinematic cousin, is a trilogy’s middle chapter that ends with its heroes outnumbered, outgunned, and less certain of their victory than they were at the end of the previous installment. Infinity War, if anything, goes darker; not only does the movie end on a cliffhanger that leaves its villain, Thanos, ahead of its army of superheroes, many of the superheroes disintegrate into dust at the snap of the big purple guy’s newly empowered fingers. The movie ends with its villain basking in the glow of a job well-done, and its heroes counting their dead.

Despite reports of younger viewers bursting into tears, this twist (expected by some comics devotees, but not general audiences) leaves most Avengers fans breathless with a combination of exhilaration, surprise, and anticipation. (Reviews have been generally positive too.) The Last Jedi, meanwhile, divided fans with its depiction of a surly, disillusioned Luke Skywalker and its pointedly anticlimactic answer to the question of its heroine’s parentage. The Last Jedi is, however, a much better film and an object lesson in how a talented filmmaker can work around, or simply push past, the inherent limitations of a single entry in a modern forever franchise.

Infinity War’s ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.​

As big a swing as it is for Infinity War to apparently kill off major characters, Marvel’s upcoming release schedule guarantees that some of those deaths won’t be permanent. This is just the act break before next year’s follow-up. In both Infinity War and The Last Jedi, the heroes fail, but only one of the movies gives that failure a chance to sink in. The Last Jedi’s younger heroes, full of can-do spirit in The Force Awakens, get a chance to save the day in their follow-up adventure, and they blow it: Poe Dameron leads a mutiny that turns out to be unnecessary, and Finn and Rose’s side quest is a bust, at least in terms of hacking into an enemy ship’s tracking software. Even Luke Skywalker re-enters the story not as a hero full of wisdom to be passed on to the next generation, but as a man haunted by his past mistakes. We learn that in a moment of fear and despair, he came close to killing his dark-leaning nephew Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), inadvertently sending him further down a Vader-emulating path. The Last Jedi’s characters, both heroes and villains, struggle with whether the past can or should define them, and that past includes failures, not just chosen-one victories.

In Infinity War, failure is merely a plot device. Few of the movie’s characters go through any meaningful change—and that includes most of the characters who wind up dead. They start the movie wanting to stop Thanos, they try to stop Thanos, and they fail to stop Thanos (at least until next May). Their final failure isn’t something the characters grapple with for more than a few moments, and while the lack of falling action increases the shock value, it also blunts the movie’s emotional charge; little about it lingers. Despite all of Infinity War’s elaborate visual effects and coherently staged battles, there’s not a single image as striking as the shots of Luke in a cave on his remote island, receding into the shadows, or Rey gasping for breath after approaching the darkness within her—maybe because there’s little of thematic interest to inspire any. Only Thanos gets a moment to reflect on the death of half the universe, and even then only briefly, because to really dig into the specifics of this massive change would make the ending of Infinity War less of a mic-drop cliffhanger. This ending has been lauded for its daring, but its ultimate goal is to keep audiences on the hook for more Avengers adventures.

Even taking Infinity War’s ending on its own terms does the movie no favors. Confronting the audience with the deaths of beloved characters isn’t especially impressive when those characters are beloved mainly because of previous, better movies. Serving up their demises to invested fanboys amounts to a perverse sort of audience flattery: Congratulations, you’ve collected enough feelings about Black Panther or Spider-Man to access this special prize! The movie might as well be taking place inside of a vast cereal box.

Granted, at this point it’s hard to draw a distinction between fans of these all-consuming franchises and general audiences: Is anyone not a Star Wars fan? Is anyone who’s not an MCU fan still paying attention? And it’s hard to blame those audiences for enjoying a funny and fast-paced superhero blowout like Infinity War. Even to a skeptic, Infinity War offers a pleasurable buzz of anticipation about what might happen next and whether it can possibly be equal to its cataclysmic setup. But The Last Jedi requires no such waiting period; it’s not up to Episode IX to make Johnson’s movie worthwhile, any more than it was Johnson’s responsibility to pay off every plot thread from The Force Awakens. Jedi ends, in fact, in a way that could easily serve as the capstone for the Star Wars series, even though it has no pretensions of finality. Disgruntled fans threw this achievement back as an insult: After Last Jedi, they were done with Star Wars! What could be worse, after all, than a movie series that’s not trying to immediately lure you back? When thinking of Avengers 4 and which character deaths it may undo (no less than “some” and, hell, possibly as many as “all”), it’s hard not to recall internet commenters wishfully theorizing how Episode IX might write Johnson’s developments out of existence altogether. (“Actually, Rey, I was wrong about your parents being nobodies. Psych!”) Infinity War practically invites that fannish tinkering: Its final twist inspires not thoughts of how its heroes will mourn the death of half the universe but how they will undo it.

But as frustrating as Infinity War is, it does have the advantage of bringing the successes of The Last Jedi into even stronger focus, offering reassurance that a talented filmmaker really can make distinctive art out of a franchise crowd pleaser (and The Last Jedi is no more an experimental anti-film than Infinity War is; this is a movie that generously provides the sight of BB-8 driving an AT-ST). Perhaps in its way, The Last Jedi is setting up Avengers 4 too by keeping hope alive that Marvel can pull back from the brink and let its filmmakers experiment, not just with superficial shifts in the status quo but with movies that express a particular point of view—even if that means risking genuine failure.


Fonte

Não tinha lido esses textos antes pra evitar spoilers pois só tive tempo de ir assistir ontem o Vingadores 3. Tentei ler agora, mas desisti, o nível de estupidez é alto demais...
Os caras tem a cara de pau de dizer que Vingadores 3 não é ousado, um filme que é o ponto central de um universo construído em 10 anos e 18 filmes, que juntou uma porrada de protagonistas dos filmes anteriores num filme só e ainda conseguiu fazer isso funcionar, isso não é ser ousado?
Aí vão e elegiam um filme b*sta que só se baseou em nostalgia pra se vender, um filme escrito por um diretor pretensioso e que não entende o universo de SW. Quem escreveu o artigo deve se achar cult "fora o velho que venha o novo, filme moderno tem que quebrar paradigmas, irritar seu público é bom e blá blá blá", deve ser isso que se passa no Ryan Johnson tbm... O cara fez questão de não só bancar o moderninho mas também de ofender símbolos estabelecidos da franquia. Abre o filme com uma piada de telefone e com um dos personagens zoando a mãe de um dos vilões, depois faz o Luke jogar o sabre de luz do Anakin fora de uma forma cômica, corta do filme o Luke de luto pelo Han mas mantém a cena do Luke bebendo e babando o leite azul de uma foca alienígena, como se a ideia fosse humilhar o personagem, trata a força como algo comum e que vc não precisa de dedicação nenhuma, faz piadas enquanto o Luke explica a força pra Rey, quando a Rey vai treinar com o sabre de luz (com movimentos ridiculamente mal executados ainda por cima) ele vai e finaliza a cena com ela derrubando a pedra e quase acertando as "freiras aliens" pra fazer mais uma piadinha, transforma a ordem jedi num lixo, transforma o Yoda num velho retardado, transforma os vilões em patetas, etc... "grande filme" mesmo... Fora a falta de sal e de "escala" nas batalhas do lixo que foi o ep 8.

Nunca fui muito ligado a quadrinhos de heróis, sempre gostei mais de Asterix e de turma da Mônica, então sei pouco sobre esse tipo de universo, o que sei é por comentários de amigos e nerdices em geral, e pelo que assisto do MCU. Não gostei de todos os filmes, acho alguns deles bem bostas, mas tbm gosto bastante de outros, já SW assisto desde pequeno, assisti todos os filmes, lí vários dos livros (pré Disney, nem tentei ler essa coisa sem sal que é o novo universo expandido) e joguei vários jogos, mas senti muito mais ligação com Vingadores 3 do que com o ep 8, já nos primeiros 15 minutos do V3 eu estava achando o filme foda, enquanto no ep 8 nos 5 primeiros minutos já comecei a sentir que o filme seria uma m****. V3 é supeior ao ep 8 em absolutamente tudo, inclusive parece mais SW do que o ep 8... As cenas de ação dão uma surra no lixo atual de SW, o roteiro tbm, os personagens nem se fala, e o Thanos, porra, um dos maiores problemas pra mim no MCU era a falta de vilões bons, eram sempre sem graça, sem ameaça, mas o Thanos, porra, isso sim é um vilão, ele não só é uma ameaça real, mas tbm é um bom personagem, enquanto SW, que sempre chamou atenção pelos vilões nos entregou um velho burro playboy e um emo de 28 anos de idade... São esses os novos vilões de SW? Uma franquia que tem Vader e Palpatine...
Tanto o Thanos quanto o Snoke eram "sombras" qua ameaçavam o universo deles, mas no fim o Snoke é só um imbecil que não fez nada, não significou nada, já o Thanos entregou o peso dele MCU. Preferia até que mandassem um f**a-se e fizessem um crossover em que o Thanos seria o verdadeiro vilão dessa nova trilogia SW, ele é mais digno da franquia do que essas 2 piadas que jogaram lá...

Outra coisa, os filmes da Marvel muitas vezes exageram nas piadas, mas esse filme acertou, acertou na quantidade mais limitada, na forma em que foram colocadas e no tom. Já o ep 8 cagou piadas ruins pra todo lado, o imcompetente teve até a cara de pau de fazer a piadinha do Luke limpando a roupa na batalha final, quebrando totalmente um clima que já era fraco.

Tem tbm a "carga emocional" dos 2 filmes, como disse assisto SW desde pequeno, mas quando o Luke morre no ep 8, só senti desprezo, foi uma cena fraca, um desperdício, a morte do Luke no ep 8 foi como a morte do SM no Batman vs Superman, um puro desperdício sem sentido, algo feito sem a carga necessária. Já em V3

Spoiler

várias cenas tiveram intensidade boa, como quando a Gamorra acha que matou o Thanos e sofre por isso, quando a Feiticeira Escarlate está destruindo a jóia do Visão, quando o Tony vê o Peter desaparecendo, o Rocket se despedindo do Groot e principalmente a cena em que o Thanos percebe que vai ter que matar a Gamorra, put* cena boa, e ainda por cima feita em um personagem carregado em CGI, mas que funcionou muito bem

e isso que não tenho muita ligação com esses personagens, alguns não são tão populares ou só apareceram a pouco tempo no MCU. E isso que só falei das cenas dramáticas, tem outras que empolgam pra c***lho, tipo a primeira vez que o capitão aparece, ou o Thor sendo Thor, pqp aquilo sim foi foda.

"Resumindo", esses 2 artigos não passam de lixo pretencioso, e V3 mostrou o que é ser ousado sem que você precise pra isso desrespeitar os fãs e o próprio universo do filme, mostrou o que um projeto bem planejado pode fazer, mostrou que SW está sendo feito sem competência nenhuma e que a equipe atual de SW está completamente perdida.

 

[Goris]

Não tinha lido esses textos antes pra evitar spoilers pois só tive tempo de ir assistir ontem o Vingadores 3. Tentei ler agora, mas desisti, o nível de estupidez é alto demais...
Os caras tem a cara de pau de dizer que Vingadores 3 não é ousado, um filme que é o ponto central de um universo construído em 10 anos e 18 filmes, que juntou uma porrada de protagonistas dos filmes anteriores num filme só e ainda conseguiu fazer isso funcionar, isso não é ser ousado?
Aí vão e elegiam um filme b*sta que só se baseou em nostalgia pra se vender, um filme escrito por um diretor pretensioso e que não entende o universo de SW. Quem escreveu o artigo deve se achar cult "fora o velho que venha o novo, filme moderno tem que quebrar paradigmas, irritar seu público é bom e blá blá blá", deve ser isso que se passa no Ryan Johnson tbm... O cara fez questão de não só bancar o moderninho mas também de ofender símbolos estabelecidos da franquia. Abre o filme com uma piada de telefone e com um dos personagens zoando a mãe de um dos vilões, depois faz o Luke jogar o sabre de luz do Anakin fora de uma forma cômica, corta do filme o Luke de luto pelo Han mas mantém a cena do Luke bebendo e babando o leite azul de uma foca alienígena, como se a ideia fosse humilhar o personagem, trata a força como algo comum e que vc não precisa de dedicação nenhuma, faz piadas enquanto o Luke explica a força pra Rey, quando a Rey vai treinar com o sabre de luz (com movimentos ridiculamente mal executados ainda por cima) ele vai e finaliza a cena com ela derrubando a pedra e quase acertando as "freiras aliens" pra fazer mais uma piadinha, transforma a ordem jedi num lixo, transforma o Yoda num velho retardado, transforma os vilões em patetas, etc... "grande filme" mesmo... Fora a falta de sal e de "escala" nas batalhas do lixo que foi o ep 8.

Nunca fui muito ligado a quadrinhos de heróis, sempre gostei mais de Asterix e de turma da Mônica, então sei pouco sobre esse tipo de universo, o que sei é por comentários de amigos e nerdices em geral, e pelo que assisto do MCU. Não gostei de todos os filmes, acho alguns deles bem bostas, mas tbm gosto bastante de outros, já SW assisto desde pequeno, assisti todos os filmes, lí vários dos livros (pré Disney, nem tentei ler essa coisa sem sal que é o novo universo expandido) e joguei vários jogos, mas senti muito mais ligação com Vingadores 3 do que com o ep 8, já nos primeiros 15 minutos do V3 eu estava achando o filme foda, enquanto no ep 8 nos 5 primeiros minutos já comecei a sentir que o filme seria uma m****. V3 é supeior ao ep 8 em absolutamente tudo, inclusive parece mais SW do que o ep 8... As cenas de ação dão uma surra no lixo atual de SW, o roteiro tbm, os personagens nem se fala, e o Thanos, porra, um dos maiores problemas pra mim no MCU era a falta de vilões bons, eram sempre sem graça, sem ameaça, mas o Thanos, porra, isso sim é um vilão, ele não só é uma ameaça real, mas tbm é um bom personagem, enquanto SW, que sempre chamou atenção pelos vilões nos entregou um velho burro playboy e um emo de 28 anos de idade... São esses os novos vilões de SW? Uma franquia que tem Vader e Palpatine...
Tanto o Thanos quanto o Snoke eram "sombras" qua ameaçavam o universo deles, mas no fim o Snoke é só um imbecil que não fez nada, não significou nada, já o Thanos entregou o peso dele MCU. Preferia até que mandassem um f**a-se e fizessem um crossover em que o Thanos seria o verdadeiro vilão dessa nova trilogia SW, ele é mais digno da franquia do que essas 2 piadas que jogaram lá...

Outra coisa, os filmes da Marvel muitas vezes exageram nas piadas, mas esse filme acertou, acertou na quantidade mais limitada, na forma em que foram colocadas e no tom. Já o ep 8 cagou piadas ruins pra todo lado, o imcompetente teve até a cara de pau de fazer a piadinha do Luke limpando a roupa na batalha final, quebrando totalmente um clima que já era fraco.

Tem tbm a "carga emocional" dos 2 filmes, como disse assisto SW desde pequeno, mas quando o Luke morre no ep 8, só senti desprezo, foi uma cena fraca, um desperdício, a morte do Luke no ep 8 foi como a morte do SM no Batman vs Superman, um puro desperdício sem sentido, algo feito sem a carga necessária. Já em V3

Spoiler

várias cenas tiveram intensidade boa, como quando a Gamorra acha que matou o Thanos e sofre por isso, quando a Feiticeira Escarlate está destruindo a jóia do Visão, quando o Tony vê o Peter desaparecendo, o Rocket se despedindo do Groot e principalmente a cena em que o Thanos percebe que vai ter que matar a Gamorra, put* cena boa, e ainda por cima feita em um personagem carregado em CGI, mas que funcionou muito bem

e isso que não tenho muita ligação com esses personagens, alguns não são tão populares ou só apareceram a pouco tempo no MCU. E isso que só falei das cenas dramáticas, tem outras que empolgam pra c***lho, tipo a primeira vez que o capitão aparece, ou o Thor sendo Thor, pqp aquilo sim foi foda.

"Resumindo", esses 2 artigos não passam de lixo pretencioso, e V3 mostrou o que é ser ousado sem que você precise pra isso desrespeitar os fãs e o próprio universo do filme, mostrou o que um projeto bem planejado pode fazer, mostrou que SW está sendo feito sem competência nenhuma e que a equipe atual de SW está completamente perdida.

Excelente interpretação e curti o texto tbm, a forma como escreveu.

 

[xxxnerozzz]

Esse filme é elogiado pq é SJW, olha a surra que Desejo de Matar está tomando da crítica pq é pró armas, e olha a aprovação do filme no rotten do público 80%

 

[Goris]

Estava conversando aqui com um colega de trabalho (que odiou TLJ e adorou Os Vingadores), tudo que ele queria de TLJ era Luke Skywalker fazendo aquela cena de Thanos jogando a Lua de Titan contra os heróis.

Imagina isso no cinema????

 

[Devon_]

Lembra do Starkiller do Force Unleashed derrubando um Star Destroyer usando a força? Se Luke faz uma porra dessas em cima do Kylo Ren em Crait ia ser foda

Estava conversando aqui com um colega de trabalho (que odiou TLJ e adorou Os Vingadores), tudo que ele queria de TLJ era Luke Skywalker fazendo aquela cena de Thanos jogando a Lua de Titan contra os heróis.

Imagina isso no cinema????

Enviado de meu SM-A910F usando o Tapatalk

 

[Iron_Sword]

Excelente interpretação e curti o texto tbm, a forma como escreveu.

Hahaha, acabou ficando muito grande, muita coisa pra falar, dois artigos completamente imbecis tentando proteger um filmeco falando mal de um filmão, aí me "empolguei" por achar ridícula a atitude dos autores dos artigos e do diretor do ep 8, virou meio que um wall of text XD, até decidi fazer aquele "resumo no final" pra facilitar.

Estava conversando aqui com um colega de trabalho (que odiou TLJ e adorou Os Vingadores), tudo que ele queria de TLJ era Luke Skywalker fazendo aquela cena de Thanos jogando a Lua de Titan contra os heróis.

Imagina isso no cinema????

Enquanto eu assistia V3 tive mais de uma vez a impressão de que era mais SW do que o ep 8...
E uma lua caindo não seria algo inédito em SW, acontece isso em Vector Prime, primeiro livro da saga New Jedi Order, seria um evento foda pra ser mostrado.

Lembra do Starkiller do Force Unleashed derrubando um Star Destroyer usando a força? Se Luke faz uma porra dessas em cima do Kylo Ren em Crait ia ser foda

Enviado de meu SM-A910F usando o Tapatalk

Nah, Luke não pode ser foda, tem que ser "desconstruído" pra inflar o ego de um diretor moderninho...

 

[Drath Bruno]

Lembra do Starkiller do Force Unleashed derrubando um Star Destroyer usando a força? Se Luke faz uma porra dessas em cima do Kylo Ren em Crait ia ser foda

Se isso acontecesse seria exagerado e tosco.

 

[Devon_]

Se isso acontecesse seria exagerado e tosco.

Exagerado? Provavelmente. Tosco? Bem menos que todo o TLJ

Enviado de meu SM-A910F usando o Tapatalk

 

[Goris]

Se isso acontecesse seria exagerado e tosco.

Cara, todo o filme foi exagerado e tosco, na minha opinião.

Já fizemos tantas listas de tudo de errado no filme que nem vale a pena repetir tudo, mas o filme todo exagerou pra destruir todo o legado da franquia.

Luke Skywalker derrubar "na Força" um Imperial Star Destroyer seria formidável, daria um sentimento de grandeza fudido ao personagem e, aí sim, justificaria ele ter virado purpurina ao fim do filme, todo o público veria que o esforço realmente teria sido fabuloso e poderia ter cobrado um preço caro.

Mas... Pra que engrandecer se vc pode apequenar?

 

[Bloodstained]

​

 

[GadoMuuuuu]

Os caras tem a cara de pau de dizer que Vingadores 3 não é ousado, um filme que é o ponto central de um universo construído em 10 anos e 18 filmes

Construido em 10 anos e 18 filmes, além de 4 temporadas de mais de 20 episódios cada de Agents of SHIELD, a série Inhumans, e a porrada de séries da Marvel no Netflix (Daredevil, Jessica Jones, The Defenders, Iron Fist, Luke Cage, The Punisher...).

 

[billpower]

Construido em 10 anos e 18 filmes, além de 4 temporadas de mais de 20 episódios cada de Agents of SHIELD, a série Inhumans, e a porrada de séries da Marvel no Netflix (Daredevil, Jessica Jones, The Defenders, Iron Fist, Luke Cage, The Punisher...).

Pois é. Por mais que a Marvel tenha suas fórmulas, algumas escolhas erradas para certas ocasiões, no geral ela acerta muito mais do que erra e tem muito mais méritos do que deméritos. Acho que alguns argumentos sempre trazidos para criticar os filmes da Marvel por algumas pessoas me soa realmente mais como um hate ou simplesmente uma contrariedade com a abordagem do que algo fundado numa crítica realmente justa.

 

[Bloodstained]

​

 

[Chris Redfield jr]

 

[Kamui Senketsu]

Tá de sacanagem colocar isso aí
Qual era nota do Rotten para o Ep. VIII? Ninguém leva essa m**** a sério principalmente com a Disney comprando a crítica

 

[Bloodstained]

O Want to See está em queda meteórica desde que o Han Soja entrou no Rotten Tomatoes. Quero só ver a bilheteria do final de semana de estréia...

 

[Chris Redfield jr]

Tá de sacanagem colocar isso aí
Qual era nota do Rotten para o Ep. VIII? Ninguém leva essa m**** a sério principalmente com a Disney comprando a crítica

Bacana é ver que o publico ainda conseguiu dar nota maior pro Solo que para o LJ. Pelo menos até agora.

 

[Chris Redfield jr]

O Want to See está em queda meteórica desde que o Han Soja entrou no Rotten Tomatoes. Quero só ver a bilheteria do final de semana de estréia...

Não estreou ainda então?

 

[Bloodstained]

Não estreou ainda então?

O lançamento é dia 24 de Maio. Por hora, esse 71% diz respeito apenas aos críticos que foram convidados pela Disney para assistir com uma semana de antecedência. E, se pararmos para pensar, isso é um problema para a Disney, pois esses são os caras comprados por ela e, mesmo assim, a crítica dos putos não colocou o filme acima dos 90%, como era de se esperar... De qualquer maneira, os críticos não são confiáveis. O negócio é esperar pela reação da audiência propriamente dita.

 

[Goris]

Exato, de repente, os críticos que deram notas medianas pra baixas e a Disney que achou que seria um fracasso podem ter feito um filme bom, que apenas não atende à agenda SJW deles.

 

[Bloodstained]

​

 

[billpower]

Quero só ver a bilheteria do final de semana de estréia...

Acho que consegue 100 milhões no primeiro ou segundo FDS, mas dificilmente passará os 200. Aquela conta de 700 milhões que um certo user falou que acharia não ser fracasso acho que não é impossível não. Seria lindo demais.

 

[bushi_snake]

Pow, chuto fácil que Deadpool 2 vai ofuscar han soja com força...

dá pra imaginar... Star Wars... perdendo pra um personagem "criado" por....argh..... rob lifield.....??? lol

 

[rossetto]

Pior que no trailer do cinema o filme parece ser bom, com certeza alguma galera vai ir vendo sem saber a bomba.

 

[Megalith]

Solo, tá aí um filme bem irrelevante pra mim, esse só vou assistir quando sair um BDrip