montgocloud

Thanks. I'm not sure that there will be an overload of CGI though; from the way the actors and Abrams are talking about it, the film seems to be focused on practical effects and sets.

Have we seen pictures of the Inquisitor with his helmet off? Is the helmet molded to the body piece or are they separate (like General Zod's armor in the Man of Steel sets)?

Has anyone touched on how the title hints at plot points that could cause the prequels to make more sense? So, according to the prequels, Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader is space Jesus and brings "balance to the Force" when he kills the Emperor. That never made much sense considering all of the other Sith that appeared after ROTJ in the EU. The Force Awakens could refer to how, after balance is brought, there is a resurgence in the Force and more Sith Lords and Jedi Knights emerge. Just my thoughts. Also, is that Millennium Falcon a model or CGI? Or a model enhanced with CGI?

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I clicked on this topic but... Wow. Truly inspirational. I would love to do something similar (if I had the time, the devotion, not to mention the ability). This is the perfect way to display a collection.

I just saw a bunch of movies, more specifically Birdman, Interstellar, and The Theory of Everything. Birdman (Michael Keaton, Edward Norton, Diane Lane, Emma Stone), directed by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, is a truly special film. Keaton stars as Riggan Thomson, a washed up actor who made his career in the '90s as the iconic superhero Birdman. The film starts off in the days leading up to Thomson's Broadway debut, an adaptation of Raymond Carter's short story "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love." I was immediately drawn to Birdman when it was first announced: I had seen (and loved) Inarritu's first film, Amores Perros, so I had total confidence that his ambitious single-shot style used for Birdman would pay off. My trust was not misplaced. Now, before I begin to analyze the cinematography of this film, I should mention that it is obviously not truly one shot; I counted a dozen or so subtle cuts throughout. This is not a criticism and it does not detract from the film, but it is worth mentioning. The unique cinematography of Birdman is not just a gimmick to attract moviegoers, rather, it is intertwined with and essential to its tone and themes. Thomson is delusional: he suffers from hearing paranoid voices in his head and hallucinations. The constant movement, the craning and rotating of the camera as it quite literally follows the characters through the confusing and claustrophobic web-like architecture of the theater gives the audience its own disorientation to match Thomson's. Also, on the subject of the connection between the cinematography and Birdman's setting, one could argue that a stage production, at its simplest, is a sort of single-shot film. The direction is so integral to the whole of Birdman, it is more than just a superficial technical achievement to keep the critics talking (*cough* *cough* Boyhood *cough* *cough*). Another of Birdman's strengths is the score: I do not want to give too much away in fear of taking away from its effectiveness, so I will only point out that it is extremely unique in both its choice of instruments (or lack thereof) and its integration into the film. It greatly enhances the film's tone and atmosphere. I could go on into the deeper meanings and layers of Birdman, its discussion of the stark contrast between being a celebrity and being an actor, its parody and seeming condemnation of the superhero genre, its blend of reality and fantasy as an insight into the egocentric thoughts and feelings of its titular character, but doing so would be to spoil this film for others, to lessen or diffuse its impact, something I would never wish to do. Birdman is a cinematic triumph, a sure contender for the best film of the year. 10/10 Interstellar (Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Michael Caine, Matt Damon) is a bit of a mess; it tries to tackle more ideas than it can handle. An admirable effort for sure, I mean I would rather a film have too many ideas than not enough, but the end result is... well, I will get into that later. First, a plot summary: the Earth is uninhabitable. Consumable crops have, for the most part, completely died out, and the remaining survivors have placed all of their endeavors on discovering and exploring other planets that could potentially support human colonization. The plot is classic science-fiction, which is where much of my praise stems from. When the film is entirely focused on the wonders of space exploration and the mutability of the space-time continuum, it is wholly successful. It is difficult to create a film for mass audiences that deals with complicated fifth-dimensional physics: if they don't immediately buy into the premise and setting, it could all fall flat. Christopher Nolan is a director who has mastered visual storytelling. Through some clever cinematography, he grounds the film in realism; he never shows the outside of the spaceship in a wide shot, as Star Trek and Star Wars often do, rather, he mounts the camera to the sides of the ship as done by NASA and other real-life space agencies. Subconsciously, the audience connects to this and thus makes a connection into the world. The visuals of Interstellar are simply stunning. The look, the feel, it is refreshing in a day and age of explosion-heavy, exhausting action blockbusters. If it had kept this and had not gotten bogged down in a stereotypical plot and schmaltz, then I would have probably loved this film. But, alas, it did not keep this. Before I begin, be warned: there are spoilers ahead. Skip to the closing paragraph of this review if you plan on seeing Interstellar. Now, as I said before, the visuals and the highly accurate and complex science ground this film in realism, however, there is a point in this film when Nolan introduces the concept that love binds the universe together... really?! Love, a human emotion, binds the entirety of the vast, expansive universe? This is not even remotely believable. Note: I am not saying that this film should have been without an emotional crux, that it should have been all sterile, dull science, but perhaps the emotions should have been a little more quaint to contrast with the overbearing setting of outerspace. It could have played with the idea of how small humanity and all of our problems really are... I don't know. With the way it is now, Interstellar goes off the deep end. Nolan tends to do this: he takes a simple and straight-forward conversation, relationship, or element and magnifies it to such a ridiculous degree to make some overarching statement; he does not have any sense of restraint. Next, I will quickly run through some of the other problems I had with the film: Matt Damon's character is completely out of place. Did Interstellar really need an over-the-top-James Bond-esque villain, let alone any villain at all? Also, a comment on the sound mixing: Hans Zimmer provides a booming, organ-heavy score to accompany the marvelous visuals, but there are times when the music is so loud that the dialogue is inaudible. It did not seem intentional or artistic, it seemed like a clumsy oversight. I do not want to come off like I hated Interstellar. Its only major problem is that it is overstuffed with ideas. At its core, it is a film for science-fiction fans, but Christopher Nolan adds in elements that conflict with this core in order to appeal to mass audiences; it does not feel cohesive in the least. There is a great film hidden within this mess, perhaps even a somewhat successor to Stanley Kubrick's masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odyssey, but unfortunately I cannot rate a film on what it could have been, I have to review what it actually is. 6/10 The Theory of Everything (Eddie Redmayne, Felicity Jones) is surprisingly terrible. I was not expecting it to be a grand masterpiece, but I definitely could not anticipate how infuriated I would feel by the end. Why is it so bad? Well, that might take some time to explain. The film follows Stephen Hawking (Redmayne) as he meets his future wife, Jane Wilde (Jones), deals with his debilitating illness, and formulates his now famous theory concerning the conception of our universe. Its premise sounds like it could make for a great time at the theater, so what exactly went wrong? From the posters, The Theory of Everything looks like it wants to be about Hawking's relationship with Wilde, how his illness not only slowly deteriorated his connection to the physical world but also his connection with her. Unfortunately, however, it all falls flat on its face. This is mainly due to how the film is told; it feels like reading the Wikipedia article on Hawking: just the facts, devoid of any deeper emotional connection with the audience. Hawking and Wilde get married after sharing only five or ten minutes of screen time. They go from making awkward googly eyes at one another to having children far too quickly. The film does not establish their love, it skims past the good times in their relationship to allot more screen time to the bad; without a contrast between the two, the film turns into two hours of people being miserable. An example of this lack of contrast comes in their amount of communication: one would think that it would be a pretty powerful moment when Hawking loses his ability to speak, but the audience never sees Hawking and Wilde talk beforehand so it holds no impact whatsoever. For a film about a scientist developing a theory about time, The Theory of Everything seems to have no concept of time at all. This is partly because of its obnoxious color filters (think Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) and because the actors never age. The same VistaVision color filters used to capture the 1960s are used during the 70s, 80s, and 90s, and when Hawking and Wilde are in their sixties, they look no different than they do in their twenties. No effort was made with prosthetics, makeup, or CGI to make them appear older. In addition, no context is given as to what year the film is in. This is made exponentially worse considering how many jumps in time this film has. When Hawking is diagnosed with ALS (not exactly, but the disease is related), we are told that he has two years to live. Half the time I thought the film was taking place inside that two year period, only to find out later that two decades had passed. I was waiting for the inevitable explanation of how he survives far longer than first anticipated, however, this is never explained or even addressed. I have some minor nitpicks as well. First, there is a scene where Wilde is in a hospital in France talking to a doctor in French (as one might expect), but all of a sudden they start to speak in English for no reason other than that the dialogue is more important. If the doctor knows English, why are they not speaking in English when the scene starts? OK, maybe Wilde is not aware that the doctor speaks English... but if that is true, why does she start talking to him in English in the middle of the scene? Does Wilde have the script with her? Second, there is a great scene that takes place days after Hawking learns of his illness. He has been laying in his dorm avoiding the outside world. Wilde visits him and encourages him to get up and to live instead of withering away in his room. She takes off his glasses and cleans them, a symbol of her wiping off his disillusionment and allowing him to see his challenging situation more clearly. But then, at the end of the film, this moment is repeated, even though there is no deeper meaning behind it. It confuses the audience and makes me question whether there was any actual symbolism there in the first place. Also, why does Wilde wear teal all the time? Is there some sort of significance behind this? Or is it just because teal looks nice with the previously mentioned color filter? Alright, I had better wrap this up. If I had one bit of praise, it would be the quality of performances. Redmaye's portrayal of Hawking is truly inspired. I only wish it was not wasted on this shoddy script. Felicity Jones is serviceable but overall as Wilde. The two had definite chemistry at the start but it never went anywhere due to the film's lack of focus. The best word to describe The Theory of Everything is vague. It does not go into depth on any specific part of Stephen Hawking's life, rather, it presents the audience with a long drawn out summary. It leaves you asking questions at every turn. If it had focused on Hawking and Wilde's deep but strained relationship, if it had some semblance of a heart, it might have had some level of success. 4/10

I'm surprised 4LOM wasn't included in the Slave I. Seems like a huge missed opportunity...

I love Treasure Island. That brickbuilt skull rock screams classic LEGO. I'm not too sure about the rest of the line. There seems to be a large piece gap between the Pirate Ship and the rest of the sets. I would have liked to see 400-500 piece pirate hideout.

Perhaps superhero films are science fantasy then. That doesn't make them bad, it just makes them of a different genre. But I will agree there are some pretty bad superhero movies out there (Man of Steel, ASM2, X-Men: The Last Stand, and Green Lantern come to mind), but for the most part, Marvel knows how to make a competent film. Let's take The Avengers for example. I'll compare it to Transformers because both have to juggle a large cast of characters. The Avengers takes its time to develop characters, to show the relationships between each hero. It has a loose, formulaic story, like Transformers, but it works here because the script is tight and the action is exciting. I can tell who is who, what is going on, why they are fighting, etc. The Transformers films flash explosions in your face and bombard you with loud noises. The fights are between robots with no personality. Note: this isn't a criticism of the Transformers franchise, I'm sure that the characters are very defined and memorable in other iterations, this is criticism of the Bay trilogy quadrilogy. Judging by your next post (I just saw it), superheroes are a taste issue for you. I can suspend my disbelief of the science of superheroes if the characters are defined and dynamic and the action is intelligible. I'm not trying to start a fight or anything, just a healthy discussion of why we like the movies we like.

I said it once when the prelims were shown and I'll say it again: something looks off about the Azure Angel. Is it just me or is it a bit too skinny?

I have to go with the general consensus on this one: that purist Scorpion is fantastic. A great use of the Hydra Soldier's head and Killer Croc's body. And I love the way you spun the web and positioned Spidey; it looks extremely dynamic, it could be a cover to a comic book.

Eh, they're pretty terrible. If you add up the entire runtime of the four films, it equal 616 minutes or 10 hours. What warrants this? The simplistic, formulaic plots that they all follow? The little to no characterization? I can't connect to anyone or anything in those movies. I couldn't care less what happens. My ears and eyes are being senselessly tortured with over saturated explosions and loud noises. I'm bored and miserable when I watch them. This goes for all four of them. Yeah, Transformers 1 is better than the rest, but it's still only gets a 4/10. It's not good but it's not as bad. So that's an accomplishment?

That's a fine title. I don't hate it, I don't love it. But I could be made to hate it or love it depending how well it fits the film. The Phantom Menace is a great title on its own, but does it fit the film? Nope!

This MOC may be small but it's packed with details. If it was actually released, a set like this would have given fans another chance to get Sam and a Ringwraith. Also, was the scene in the film called "A Shortcut to Mushrooms" or did you name it that as a little nod to the book?

I am in love. It looks perfect! I'm especially fond of the way it opens. It looks like a function LEGO would have if they actually released a UCS Cantina.

I saw Whiplash recently. Review ahead: Whiplash, starring Miles Teller and JK Simmons, tells the story of Andrew Neyman (Teller), an aspiring drummer at a prestigious music university, whose skills and persistence catch the eye of Terence Fletcher (Simmons), the hard-edged conductor of the school's studio jazz band. The film is driven by performances, not an inherently unique trait, but the way it handles its characters is worth mentioning. Fletcher, the secondary character, is given much more dialogue than Neyman, the main character. Yet, despite this gross difference in amount of dialogue, Teller and Simmons manage to greatly enhance the tension of the film through their screen presences, relentlessly pushing at one another with an equal force. It builds and builds until the third act rears its head, which sees the explosion of this tension. Whiplash wouldn't have been nearly as successful if it weren't for the third act. It contains perhaps the most captivating ending to a film in years; I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. I was also pleasantly surprised with the direction the film went in terms of themes. I thought I had it all figured out when I viewed the trailer, but it is far more complex than it lets on. Instead of going for the age-old theme of feelings and relationships over accomplishments, Whiplash presents both sides of the argument equally. The theme is dependent on one's personal beliefs. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the music. The titular song, "Whiplash," a jazz standard, sounds fantastic with the accelerated tempo. There were a couple of moments when the performers didn't match up with the recording added in post-production, but these were few and far between. Whiplash not only met the hype I had for it, it surpassed the hype. It's something that's best experienced on the big screen with booming speakers. The film grabs you, excites you to its final moments, and then leaves you breathless.

Yeah, this reeks of click-bait... but the publishers and authors at Esquire aren't the smartest. If you wanted internet traffic, why wouldn't you publish this back in February or March, when the LEGO Movie was relevant? The article doesn't seek to prove anything, its only goal is to shock readers with controversial statements. It condemns adults building with LEGO right after saying the hobby is more admirable than fantasy football, video games, and Twitter. Does that mean that Esquire similarly condemns fantasy football, video games, and the use of Twitter? Because they frequently report on fantasy football and video games and hey, they have a Twitter!

I think I'm in the small minority who likes the show... it's a guilty pleasure. But yeah, the LEGO sets are terrible. The locations were the most interesting parts of the show and the sets fell flat because LEGO chose to focus on action figures.

Something I would like to see improved is the turret. Though Kanan mans it often in the show, his hairpiece makes it impossible for him to sit there in the LEGO version; the only figure that can sit at the turret is Zeb.

Hi, I've recently completed a fairly large MOC and was thinking of spicing it up with some stickers! What kind of sticker paper would you all recommend for an Inkjet printer? Are there any general tips or tricks ya'll could give me? I'm new to this sort of thing. And if there is already an in-depth tutorial on custom stickers I apologize, I didn't see one so I decided to start a new topic. But I have been known to make mistakes... from time to time.

As a huge fan of Dark Forces, I have to say that I love this MOC. This... Mohc...? There's a joke here somewhere, I just can't seem to find it. Anyways, all the references to the different phases are awesome and I must've spent ten minutes looking at all the little details you worked into the Dark Troopers and the workshop. Oh, and the micro AT-ST is cutely terrifying.

I'd argue that the Rebels' escape from the Imperial Star Destroyer is just as plausible as Luke and co.'s from the Death Star in Episode IV. There's a certain suspension of disbelief one has to have when watching the show. It does cross this suspension unfortunately, but I don't think the ISD escape is one of those times. I think I was so enthralled by the inventive action sequence that I didn't care how plausible it actually was. And on the topic of lightsabers, I really think that the Inquisitor shouldn't have a lightsaber. Rebels has a problem that carries over from the prequels: the Sith shouldn't have lightsabers. This is how I see it: Obi-Wan calls the lightsaber the "weapon of a Jedi Knight" and the Emperor mocks Luke's lightsaber in Episode VI when he says, "take your Jedi weapon." The only reason that Vader has a lightsaber is because it's a carryover from his days as a Jedi. He modifies it to be red because it's unique and intimidating. But then in the prequels Lucas gives all of the Sith lightsabers, even the Emperor. And they're all red. It ruins everything. Well, now that I think about it, it would kind of make sense if the Inquisitor had a lightsaber, even with my OT purist logic. The Inquisitor is clearly fascinated with the Jedi teachings and customs. But it shouldn't be red. And it shouldn't have a ridiculous spinning function. How often is that spinning function actually useful? What if the Inquisitor was fighting, accidentally turned the spinner on and chopped his head off? If he's locking lightsabers with someone and turns the spinner on, would that push the other person's lightsaber away? Or is the power of the spinner not strong enough for that? I'm clearly overanalyzing this.

Wow, the US prices for the winter wave are surprisingly low-the price of the Wookie Gunship had me a little worried. I'm glad the AT-DP is only $50. Let's hope that was the first and last reference to Episode I...

Yeah, I totally agree. So far, I'd rate the episodes: Spark of Rebellion: 8.5/10 Droids in Distress: 8/10 Fighter Flight: 7/10 Rise of the Old Masters: 9/10

While I agree that maybe the show shouldn't utilize the OT Lightsaber effects, please, I repeat, please, do not "correct" anything else from the original films. It's insulting. It replaces the work tediously done by others and takes away some of the charm. It's kind of like when Lucas completely reshot the Death Star battle in Episode IV using computer animation. All of the model builders' hard work was thrown away to make way for some magnificent late-90s CGI.

Not to further linger on this topic or anything, but Johnson has shown his charisma in both of the Kickass films. I think his stale performance in Godzilla mainly has to do with the script... He didn't have much to work with. That being said, I also love the Quicksilver in DOFP. Now that I've seen the AOU trailer, I'm almost positive that we will see several different phases of Ultron figures.