So the other day I decided to check out The Umbrella Academy, Netflix’s new show about a (sort-of) super-hero team slash (definitely) dysfunctional family that is reunited by the death of their adoptive father and then has to avert an oncoming apocalypse, which is scheduled to occur in a week or so.
So being one of those curmudgeonly holdout types who still receives discs in the mail from Netflix (or Qwikster or DVD.com or whatever it is these days) means that not only does my wife get to fall asleep during the latest blockbusters, but also during weird indie movies and older movies that I never got around to watching back in the day. For instance, this one:
So not long ago we finally got around to seeing “Avengers: Infinity War“, AKA “The One Where Everybody* From Every Marvel Movie Fights Thanos”.
So this week, we (meaning mostly me) watched “Ready Player One”, Steven Spielberg’s adaptation of the book by the same name. As he has done in the past, Spielberg took a book that was kind of so-so and made a humdinger of a thriller out of it. And if it maybe peaks right at the beginning, during this epic race/chase through the streets of New York (one of the best I’ve seen in years), well, I can forgive him for setting a bar he can’t subsequently clear. Because any movie that includes a Holy Hand Grenade is a movie I have to love.
So those who are familiar with the sorts of other things I’ve done “not a review” entries on, not to mention the sorts of things I write, and who also are familiar with the show Preacher* on AMC, will likely not be surprised to learn that I’ve never missed a single episode of that unhinged horror/comedy/fantasy/bizarro-land production.
So this week we finally got around to watching “Three Billboards Outside Ebbings, Missouri“, the movie for which Sam Rockwell finally won his long-overdue Oscar: