The Geeking: Sucker Punch Review

You guys probably don't know this, but I like over-the-top action scenes with sword and gun-wielding protagonists.

Shhh.

So that is exactly why I was excited to see the movie Sucker Punch. Just take a look at the trailer. Seemingly, all it is is over-the-top actions scenes with sword and gun-wielding protagonists. It has machine guns, dragons, girls in mini-skirts, mechs, orcs, girls flying helicopters, knights in shining armor, oni, girls dancing, steam-work operated clockmen, deranged psychos, and girls. It has all the good things. Theoretically, it is a geek's dream. And with all of these different ... elements one has to wonder how a movie like this can pull it off. So, did it?

Without spoiling this review, Sucker Punch is everything I expected it to be, yet not in a way. If this statement made no sense, perhaps I can try to explain my feelings in the following review. Then again, I'm still trying to sort them out.

From the beginning, we are thrust glaringly into the story of a young unnamed woman, who goes by the nickname Baby-Doll later on. Her mother has died of mysterious circumstances, and now Baby-Doll is left with her sister under the care of her simply evil stepfather. When the stepfather realizes that Baby-Doll's mother has left the significant wealth in her will only to her daughters and not himself, stepfather gets horribly mad. Things go awry, and without divulging anymore plot, "things happen". Eventually, as a way to get rid of Baby-Doll and get the money from his wife's will, he labels his step-daughter insane and has her put into a mental institute, where she will be lobotomized in five days. All of this plot happens within two minutes, I kid you not. It is highly stylized and artistic, and sets the remarkably dark tone for the rest of the story. After this, Baby-Doll discovers that she can find a world inside her own mind, and using this pretend world she attempts to escape the mental institute with the help of her newly found comrades before the five days are up.

Such is the premise of Sucker Punch.

PLOT: What you see is what you get with Sucker Punch. And of course, did you expect anything else? However, for a movie designed to attracted action fans, the plot is surprisingly well thought out. The transitions between fantasy and reality actually make sense, and are believable as believable can get with this kind of subject. Instead of characters just standing there and spacing out, they actually go on missions while imagining they are a part of the fantasy. It adds the to the crazy feel and adds to the suspension of belief a bit more, and I appreciate that.

As good as the transitions are, there are plot moments that disappointed me which could have been avoided. Often, the movie's director, Zach Snyder, seems to take random moments of violence or incredibly sad moments and sprinkle them through out the "reality" part of the movie. These seem to be there only for the shock factor, and unfortunately, they don't do much more than shock. Afterwards, you are left with a sense of loss, because these said moments do not progress the plot, or make it more deep, or even prove a good point. They might have been put there to increase drama, maybe, but the result is a very depressing melodrama that even the certain campiness of this movie can't pull off.

Also, some of the battle sequences drag on a bit. That's right, I said it. And I came here to watch the action scenes. While all of the mind-blowing action is fantastic, sometimes they seem to repeat themselves. Sometimes there are scenes with just the characters cutting through enemies that look exactly the same, through an area where scenery doesn't change, using the same cut and slice techniques over and over again. There are also no interesting character comments. The result is a monotonous drive through enemy after enemy that is really no different than mowing the lawn. The best action scene is actually at the beginning, where Baby-Doll is still learning how to kick butt. Afterwards everyone fights with near perfection, with the occasional "oh no, are we going to lose" moment. While the setting of the action varies, the fighting doesn't seem to change all that much, crowning moments of awesome aside.

The ending is also disappointing, because it could have been so much more. It could have been more fleshed out, but it feels cut short. It feels like the director was trying to make an in-your-face-I'm-being-different-kind of statement, but falls flat because by the end we have no more connection to the story due to all the shock factors. It isn't a bad ending, it just leaves us empty because despite the "wow", there is no though-provoking factors.

CHARACTERS:

All of the female characters are gorgeous. Interestingly enough, nearly all the men are disgusting. Perhaps this is intended to create a background where the female characters look even more gorgeous in comparison. Maybe this is because the female characters don't do much except stand around in revealing outfits and look gorgeous-sorry, run around and shoot enemies in revealing outfits while looking gorgeous. I doubt you would watch the movie looking for character development, but just in case you were, this is not the movie for you. Except for the villain Blue Jones (Oscar Isaac), the characters don't seem to change at all throughout the course of this movie. In truth, I was expecting something, but I didn't get much. With the exception of Rocket (Jena Malone) and Amber (Chung) I didn't care about the other girls a whole lot. I suppose Sweet Pea (Cornish) develops the most, but Cornish lacked the charisma to make the character come off well this time. Vanessa Hudgens' performance of Blondie is darn-right forgettable, for some odd reason. But then again Vanessa wasn't given much to do with her character in the first place. Besides this, each characters have their own charming quirks, and you can distinguish them from each other. You won't hate these characters. You just won't feel for them, either.

The most memorable character is the antagonist, Blue Jones. He is very, very evil, and he gets more evil as the story goes on, resulting in some pseudo-character development, which is a welcome breather. Isaac plays Blue incredibly well, and his is the most explosive performance of the cast.

MUSIC: The sound track is an interesting mix of remixed songs. I recognized "Sweet Dreams (Are made of this) from the beginning, and a few other classics. Each song fits the scene it's in well, and overall I enjoyed the music very much.

AGE RATING: As an extra note, I do not recommend letting kids under thirteen watch this movie. It's one of those movies that deserves a PG-13 rating. It is very dark. There are some intense moments of violence, although I'm more concerned about the whole theme of the movie. Basically all the characters are crazy gorgeous women hired to be strippers by Blue, so there are "moments". I didn't mention that. Yes, that's right.

OVERALL: Despite my qualms, this is a well-planned and well-directed movie. The action is fantastic, although since we don't care much about the characters we don't care how the action falls out. The acting is not bland at all; it is all very dramatic. Characters just weren't well-written. By the end, you'll probably feel a sense of disappointment because while the plot gets tied up, we realize that it could have been more thought-provoking, and we are stuck thinking of what could have been. The music is good. Overall, this is a thrill ride of a movie. I only wish there was more meat.

3 out of 5 stars.

Guinea Pig Escape

It is without a fathom of doubt that my guinea pigs adore me. I am their guide, their mentor, their feeder. I am their mother. Without me, they would stop breathing, because the loss of their mother would rip their heart out of their tiny chests. And so long as they are living, our love for each other will be strong enough to keep balance and harmony in our lives. It's a beautiful thing, really. Yes, Fatone and Bedhead, (Rest in peace, Helen) truly, irrevocably,absolutely, love me.

But sometimes they forget that they love me.

And then things happen.

*Rubs tailbone*

Anyway, I guess it was my fault. I was blinded by my love for my pig pigs. My petite chochons, my fat rodents, my lovely-okay, I'm sorry. I guess this all began when my guinea pigs decided to be really smelly and started stinking up the house yesterday, and my mom was all like.

"They are stinking up the house! How about you put them outside?"
And I was like,

"BUT THEY ARE TOO GENTLE AND KIND FOR THE WILDERNESS! THEY ARE TOO SLOW AND THEY LACK THE PROPER JUDGEMENT TO ALLOW THEM TO MAKE CORRECT DECISIONS LIKE WHEN THEY ENCOUNTER A PELLET OF POISON AND THEY THINK THEY SHOULD EAT IT! THERE IS A REASON THAT THEY ARE EXTINCT IN THE WILD! Oh, it's a nice day."

So I carted my guinea pigs outside onto my patio, into the sunshine. But not into too much sunshine, because guinea pigs are susceptible to heatstroke, but not too much in the shade because guinea pigs don't like frigid conditions. And I regularly checked on them, gave them plenty of water, changed the position of the cage with the movement of the sun, stroked them when they got lonely, made sure that Bedhead, who is sick, eats his food, and all of that. We were loving on each other like mad. I was bursting with love for my lovely pigs. And they were bursting with love for me! It was wonderful!

And so it was nearing the end of the day, and it was nice and pleasant, and I was just getting ready for my end day walk, when I saw that Fatone, my fattest pig, was lookin' a little bored.

ME: Ooooh, whooj a wittle bored wittle guy? Whooj feelin' a wittle down? Whooj needs a wittle fwesh air?

FATONE: Wheek.

ME: It's you! It's you!
And I figured today was the perfect day to let my pig out and let him hang around in a contained outdoor area for a little while. I wasn't worried about him leaving me, because he loves me and if someone loves you they will never leave you, so I picked him up and out of his cage. I put him on my shoulder, because that's his favorite spot, and took him over to my play set. The play set was wooden, with a small platform used to get to the slide, so I put him on that, figuring a new environment would do him nicely. He just sat there. He didn't move. He looked darn scared.

ME: OH, WHOOJ A LITTLE PIGGY? WHOOJ A LITTLE SCARED OF THE "PLAYSET"? WHOOJ NEEDS A WITTLE MORE NATURE AND LESS OF A STARK AND WOODEN BACKGROUND?

Fatone: Wheek.

ME: It's YOU! It's YOU!

So he ran into my arms and climbed up on my shoulder, and wheeked at me to let me know that he was ready to go. So I walked over to my basketball post. The ground there is worn down to the dirt, where people play most often, so it was grass-free and safe from evil grass bugs. I placed him down there gently, letting him get used to the area before stepping back and beholding him. He still didn't move. He just stood there in a very bored manner and looked at me like a teenager who looks at his mother when she brings him to Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday. So I crouched down besides him to give him friendly encouragement. So he would enjoy the fresh air a bit more.

ME: WHOOJ-A-WITTLE-SCARED-OF-THE-WORLD? DO-NOT-BE-FWIGHTENED! THIS-IS-THE-REALM-OF-YOUR-ANCESTORS! BE FWEE! BE TWOO!

And so we stared at each other, because he understood me, and wanted to share this moment.

                                     \

Fatone, my beloved guinea pig, had decided to make a run for it. He darted for the small tree behind me, going between my legs. It took me a second to realize that he had in fact he had just decided to abandon his loving mother, and when I did my reflexes were astonishingly slow. He had made it under tree by the time I turned around. The tree is short, with low hanging branches, so I had to duck as I walked quickly after him. I cooed gentle coos to my sweet rodent, hoping he would hold still long enough for me to grab him.

I lunged.

Fatone jumped out of the way and curtailed in the opposite direction, running at a speed that a cheetah would envy. No, I'm serious. Apparently guinea pigs are the fastest creatures known to man, and they just don't get a chance to show you. But he was showing me now. I started to chase after him. He stuck to the side of the massive wooden fence that divides us from the neighbors. (They put it up shortly after they realized that we were a bad influence.) He was running so fast I had run full speed to keep up with him. His long fur trailed in the wind, and the fat on his stomach lurched up and down dramatically as he tried to run away from me. I think the fat did him in, because he stopped for no reason. I took this as an opportunity to run ahead of him where the fence ended. I head behind the blind corner of the fence and waited. I couldn't see where he was but I sensed him. And when I thought he was close I jumped out from behind my fence to ambush him.

ME: HA HA! (ESTHER lands on grass in front of FATONE. Her timing was off. ESTHER feels stupid. FATONE curtails again)

So now he runs back to the stupid tree. I jog after him, wounded, but calm because Fatone loves me and people who love each other are together forever. But he was gettin' awful close to our shed, which is propped above the ground. If he hid in it, he would never come out. I ran as fast as I could and put myself between him and the shed, but he ran behind it. I followed, and upon seeing that he was running for the road that parallels my front yard, I made a desperate leap for him. I've never, ever, leaped for anything in my life. It must have been my lack of practice, because I missed. My accuracy was so terrible, that I actually landed in a mud puddle that was full of decaying berries from that tree. I bruised my arm, and Fatone was still going strong. That pig never exercised before in his life, and still was running a marathon. I felt defeated.

Then I felt scared.

What if Fatone actually got away? What would I do if my beloved rodent left my life? In my burst of annewed terror, my adreniline must have gone sky high. I dashed after him, catching up quickly. Then I leaped one last time and...

I secured him in my grasp! Holding him close to my chest, I ran all the way to the cage, put him in, and then collapsed on the patio. (Ouch, by the way) It was over. My guinea pig was saved, I was exhausted, and the world was all right again. Fatone was fine, except for a broken toenail, which bled but wasn't too bad. I,  myself, was feeling a tad emotional about the whole ordeal.

And then I realized that my guinea pigs love me, that they will always love me unless they forget, and so I don't have anything to worry about. My sister says I've brainwashed myself, but come on. Love is an okay form of brainwashing, right? Not that I'm brainwashed. I'm just loved.

So I came inside, covered in mud and blood, my knee scraped, and myself being tired as could be. But things could have been worse. Fatone could have escaped, realized that he needed me (since he forgot), and then could not find his way home. So it turned out to be an okay deal. So, I guess there's a moral here:

GUINEA PIGS RUN FAST!

With love,

Esther

An Unending Stream of Consciousness

My brain is Jello.

No, it's worse than that. It's melted Jello. It's the worst kind because you know that it can settle and be delicious (Well, to the people that like Jello, God forbid),but you have to wait until it is out of a state of liquid mush. Therefore, it is physically impossible for me to construct a blog post, at this time, that makes any sense. Ha ha! But I have to, because it's my duty. It's my calling. My honor. My LIFE! So what am I going to do? I'm going to free-write, and by golly you're going to listen! You've read my stream of consciousness before, and whether you liked it or not it's back. So, where shall I start?

Oh, I know. The smell of purple.

Gosh darn it, what does purple smell like? I mean, all the other colors have smells, right? Or at least we associate smells with the colors. Green smells acrid, red smells like blood, blue smells like seawater, and yellow smells like the inside of a school bus, but purple doesn't have a smell! I wish I could think of something it would smell like, but all I can think of are rips in the space time continuum. (They're purple, don'tcha know?) and they don't have a smell. What are we supposed to do, people? Journey to another realm and find a smell for purple? Through a rip in the space-time continuum? On a pony? Or a donkey? Or both? A hybrid? In one? That's a thought. Donkeys riding through a space time continuum with me tagging along sounds like a brilliant adventure indeed. Speaking of adventures, I've been trying to learn how to draw a little story. BUT STORIES ARE HARD! Drawing takes up so much time. In the time that it takes to draw one picture, I could write two chapters out. But I'm going to stick with my story, no matter how slow it goes, because K'nave, the stories protagonist, must be heard. Drawing is haaard. And the extent of my skills is one up a stick figure, literally.

Huh, literally.

Have you ever wondered why people put "literally" at the end of their sentences? Like "I swallowed a frog, literally". It doesn't make any sense, really. We already know that what you are saying is fact, so why do you have to add the extra four syllables? That takes space. With the time spared from saying "literally", you could move on to say, "My pink pants burn" or "Waffles taste good" Imagine all that time saved...It kind of makes me sad, literally.

...

It might be hard to break that habit. Speaking of habits, I have a couple that are worth mentioning. For one, I'm an excessive finger and foot tapper. Some people may find it rude, but it relieves stress for me. Another habit is my need to create fantabulous words. It's simply ludyfibious! You may not like my fake words, but remember that in the future when I rule the world, they will be a part of your society! Ha ha! Ha ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha ha ha! 


Ruling the world would be a lot of work, but it's better having me doing it anyway. Right now the world needs painted like the rainbow, because all the history we tell is in black in white. If that doesn't make sense, think of ...Magneto! Yeah! The man in X-men! He totally is considered a "black", as in evil character, but he's actually a rainbow. He is really deep, with motives and causes for his reasoning. Everybody is a rainbow. Even Santa Claus. Kind of makes me want to sing a song...

Everybody's a rainbow
everyone's more than just black or white
everybody's a rainbow
and we're all different, but that's all right!

We gotta ignore the extremes
and view things on how we perceive
even if they are just stupid things
like if it's all right to drink beer on Christmas eve

Okay, that didn't make any sense. Where was I?

I think I was talking about waffles, right?

Well, I'm sure you're tired of listening to me blab, so behold this unedited post of glory as a sort of filler for the more magnificent things to come. And remember: Santa is watching you.

Esther "Very Uninspired" P.

I've Been a Knave...(Tales of a Knave)

Oh would you lookie here...I updated! *waves* I owe you no apology. Well, actually I do, but since you've heard me apologize so often that I figured you would just roll your eyes. Like you're doing now.

Stop that!

Anyway, I know that I need to blog more, so I decided to make a pact with a good friend of mine. He has a blog too, (http://101zombiekills.blogspot.com/) so we decided that whenever one of us updates, the other person will have to update too. I wanted to have horrible bloody battles of the tongue and call our little project "Blog Wars", but nooo. So we left it at the original idea. And he updated just now, and it was a great post, and gosh darn it I have a good post too! I have so many ideas that I'm practically dripping them from my nose. I'm snotting ideas.

...

Oh what am I saying? Of course I don't have any good ideas. I spent about fifteen minutes slapping my face with a wooden spoon trying to find something that would make you guys laugh. I was going to make you people cry tears of liquefied laughter. Finally, I gave up. So I doodled. I doodled something fantastic.

I doodled a picture of a guy on a chicken.

(DISCLAIMER TO THE HATER: Now, if this man on this fine chicken resembles any man you know, you are wrong. Do not pay attention to the camo pants or the regal and handsome nose.They do not hint to this person's sense of style. Moving on. )

So, I was like, "Hmm, maybe I can do something with this guy on this chicken." Maybe tell a story about this guy on this chicken? He looks like a knave. Why is a knave riding on a chicken? Maybe he's having an adventure? Maybe even telling tales about it? Tales of a Knave? OMG.

So I doodled again. Behold.

Isn't it beautiful? Yes, I know. Obviously, the man on this chicken has a story. If only someone who was willing to spend countless hours bringing his story spontaneously to life would appear. Oh, who could this wonderful person be?

What, me?
....
No, I couldn't possibly. His story, too epic, his chicken, too resplendent!
....
I don't like drawing pictures anyway, unless you expect me to crank them out at a horribly fast rate, rendering the quality of his story incomprehensible.
...
You do? Well, that's not very kind. *cries*
...
Oh, I know! Why don't I have the man who this story is about write his story? He has no good sense of humor, his art skills are worse than mine, and he smells like fried orc! Introducing, K'nave!

K'NAVE: I do not smell like fried orc!

ME: Will you tell your story to us, K'nave?

K'NAVE: Well, I would have to wait a few years to tell you. To tell my life story I'll have to be old, drunk, and holed up in a tavern. . .But I guess I can tell you if you want.

ME: Oh yes, oh yes!

K'NAVE: Very well....

ME: Oh yes, start telling us now!

K'nave: Where to begin? Oh yes, I remember. My name is K'nave Windrider, because last names in my country must be made of a weather element and a verb, and my story started when I was sixteen....