Fantastic Four (2015)

In lieu of an actual review what follows is a text message conversation between my wife and I as I watched Josh Trank’s Fantastic Four. I know it’s lazy but this movie exhausted me.

(Warning: this entry contains spoilers.)

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The Rocky Road to 135 West 50th

Spider-Man is not on my “top ten favorite Marvel characters” list. Honestly, he’s probably not in the top fifty, but that doesn’t stop me from appreciating the significance of the character’s impact or the brilliance behind what is, in truth, a cultural phenomenon. It’s a personal thing; Parker just doesn’t speak to me. He’s the Charley Brown of the Marvel Universe and I prefer my heroes not to depress me in a way that can hit too close to home. (The terrible shit that happens to Logan? Way outside the boundaries of reality.)

There’s something about Marvel characters being used (often misused) by anyone other than their parent creators that seems inherently wrong to me so this morning’s announcement made me happy, despite my general indifference to the wall-crawler. And then I read past the headline of the press release. Be careful what you wish for.

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Robin Williams

I don’t normally get all bent out of shape when a celebrity dies. Sure it’s sad (especially if they go unexpectedly or too young) but I tend not to develop emotional attachment to people I’ve never met. That being said, I am capable of understanding when other people do; the characters we love and the performers who portray them are intrinsically linked in our minds. Still, in the grand scheme of my life not much changes when a household name takes their final bow.

But the news of Robin Williams’ passing last night is a tough pill to swallow. My usual initial reaction has built into genuine sadness for the loss. He was a towering figure in comedy, and someone who successfully showed us that the clown makeup can conceal a gifted dramatic artist. But he’s also more than that.

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